Fallen
by Desert.Illusion
Summary: Everybody has a past. Some share it, exposing themselves. Others hide it, showing it to only a special few. And others shun it, always trying to outrun it. Sometimes, ignorance can be bliss. Tsukasa, Gabriel, and Lafayel pastfic. Trailer in profile.
1. Song's End

If I owned Juvenile Orion, this would be the series and not a petty contribution to the small and persistent fandom that does not require the damaging effects of a television series to recognize and identify potential within a beautifully drawn and interpretive manga series. How's that for a pretentious disclaimer? It's also an effective way to study for the SATs.

**_WARNING:_** Seeing as the main characters are extremely young in the first two chapters (as people usually are before they reach adulthood) my focus for the first two chapters is on their guardian and how he impacts their lives. Chapter 3 is when they are old enough for the story to begin revolving around them, so please do not hold anything against original characters. We know next to nothing about Lafayel, Israfel, and Gabriel's past including those they interacted with before coming to earth. There is no way anybody can write a pastfic without original characters and if you really want to read a pastfic, you will just have to deal with them. Another option is to just skip to chapter three. I don't think you need to have read the first two chapters to understand it, but they do fill in some gaps.

Chapter Illustration: http:// www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 43444690?qo16&qby3Adesert-illusion&qhsort3Atime+-in3Ascraps

The angels are a very interesting race. Their origin is unknown even to themselves, the home planet having been dead for the past millennia. Unlike all animal species on earth, there have been no apparent gender distinctions. All angels appear as feminine men, in human terms, with blond hair, pale skin, light colored eyes, and a pair of large white wings. To reach adulthood, there are a series of stages. The first stage is that of a seed, in which it is planted in a substance similar to soil. An organism akin to a tree, called a meliad grows and blooms large opaque flowers, which are then fertilized. The organism then bears fruit, which is the time to determine whether the offspring should develop into an angel. More energy is required to create a cherub, thus two angels are required to inject their energy into the fruit, in which the skin would harden into a shell with the same density of a diamond. Once the fetus has received enough energy, the shell will burst open and a fully formed cherub, similar in appearance to a human baby, but with a pair of white wings, will emerge. One of the birthing angels will usually take custody of the cherub, though fatalities have been known to occur during birthing. In these instances, the cherub is left in the custody of the colony. Fruits that have not developed into cherubs are the standard diet, though all seeds are saved. It is believed that the meliads are the females of the species.

Fallen  
Chapter 1  
Song's End  
By Mirage

"Number 36 will need to have a resting stage."

"I thought she recovered quickly."

"Yes, but it must be tiring for them to be constantly reproducing. Let her go through a cycle without any pregnancies."

"Then should we check 89's sprouts?"

"Yes. Who is the father of the sprouts?"

"Poseidon. The commander that left with his fleet about fifty years ago."

"I remember him," a blond head appeared between two rows of young meliads. "We analyzed his defense tactics six suns ago."

Calandra smiled and bent down to the cherub's eye level. "Gabriel, you shouldn't be in the nursery right now. Rayyu and I have to categorize the meliads," he scolded. "Why don't you go train?"

Gabriel pouted slightly. "It's not fun to train alone," he complained.

"I know, Eros," Calandra ruffled the cherub's hair, "but we have to work. I know you like to do the obstacle course. Why don't you go to O5 and practice your maneuvering?"

"I already mastered O5," Gabriel declared with the pride of an eight month old. "I'm the best flyer in my class." He flexed his wings to prove his point.

Calandra laughed at the cherub's antics. "Alright, you can stay, but just don't distract us."

"I don't know, Calandra," Rayyu cut in. "36 and 37 each have one ripe fruit. We don't know when we will be called to aid in a hatching."

"Gabriel won't cause trouble," Calandra argued. "He will not touch anything, right, Eros?"

Gabriel scrunched his face at the mention of not touching anything.

"Eros?"

His shoulders sagged. "Yes, Rayyu. I won't touch anything."

Rayyu still seemed unsure until Calandra straightened and whispered into his ear, at which Gabriel noticed he turned an interesting color. "Very well," he mumbled, and then turned back to the breeding records. Calandra gave Gabriel a wink and smiled.

"So what did you learn about Poseidon?"

"I _told_ you," Gabriel gave a dramatized whine. "You _never_ listen."

"I'm sorry, cherub. Are you sure I wasn't tired that day? Rayyu, can you hand me log 16?"

Without looking up from where he was charting the ancestry of several new meliads, Rayyu passed a scroll to his colleague. Smirking, Calandra ever so slightly brushed his fingers against the other angel's hand.

"Well, maybe you were," Gabriel admitted. "Oh well," a practiced sigh. "I suppose I could tell you again."

"Go ahead, Eros," he murmured distractedly, noticing the slight shifting in Rayyu's wings, a habit he fell into when struggling to concentrate.

"Poseidon believed that the key to all defense tactics was in a strong basic shield, which worked really well because his long-term partner, Amphitrite, thought that offensive moves were based around the basic energy blast. So we've been practicing the shield—"

"Gabriel," Rayyu finally interrupted. "Can you do me a huge favor?"

The cherub perked up, wings trembling in anticipation.

"I need someone responsible to go check on 36 and 37. Can you do that?"

"Sure! Orchard C, right?"

"Yes, that's right. Take your time," he called after the retreating figure. Once the metal doors clanged shut, he pounced on his colleague.

Calandra's laugh was cut off as Rayyu's mouth was crushed against his. He pulled away quickly and rested a finger on the other angel's lips. "Not here, nymph," he whispered. "You sent Gabriel on a quick little mission."

"You're the one tempting me," Rayyu growled. "You've been sending me signals for the past fourteen suns and yet you haven't let me get closer than a mere touch. It is enough to drive me mad."

He smiled in response and stroked his partner's hair. "Caring for a cherub is a lot of responsibility," he said softly.

"You know we have to keep this from him so he can move through the ranks," Rayyu eased some pressure off Calandra, yet remained pressed into him. "He can't be soft if you want him to be higher up in life, so why do you bother getting close to him?"

"It is my nature."

"Your nature defies all angelic traditions."

"I know." Calandra smiled sadly. "I should have been born a human. I allow emotion to cloud my judgment."

"Only sometimes," Rayyu replied, nuzzling his partner's neck. "Humans are fools. You have more common sense then them."

"How so?"

"You do not enter petty wars about traditions that were started just because an alien race finds your diet delectable and fooled you into worshipping them."

Rayyu was rewarded when his partner let out a laugh, his body shaking in his arms. He smiled. Calandra really wasn't meant for angel society. He was too happy, too emotional, and too unique. Everything about him clashed with the emotionless gray tone of life in Heaven. How he had survived for so long in a culture in which only strength, power, and bloodshed mattered was a mystery to every angel he came in contact with. Rayyu was jerked out of his musings when he noticed how silent and still Calandra had become. "What is it?"

"Can you feel it?" he asked.

He furrowed his eyebrows and cued into his nerves and very faintly, felt the tiniest ripple of warmth stirring his skin.

"Gabriel," Calandra's breath came out weakly before he pushed himself away from the wall and slammed his palm against the button that opened the doors. Rayyu followed in hot pursuit as Calandra flew down the halls and forced the doors of orchard C open, too impatient to wait for them to open fully. Meliads grew in rows in the nursery and Calandra flew through them, tuning into the source of the power, steadily falling at a rapid rate. "Eros?" he called, peering around branches and fruits anxiously, unable to locate his cherub. "Eros?"

"Gabriel?" Rayyu circled a group of meliads, pushing fruits out of the way. "Gabriel, come here right now. I sent you on a simple mission. Get here now," he ordered, forcing himself to only float to another row of meliads.

"Gabriel, Eros," Calandra began to plead as the heat diminished to almost nothing rapidly. "Gabriel! Cala is here! Tell me where you are so we can practice maneuvering together. Gabriel!"

He rounded a bend in the row of meliads and spotted the tiny white figure kneeling between two drooping branches, each with a fruit pulsing with uneven intakes of energy. As he watched, Gabriel began to fall, unable to withstand the mental and physical strain of not only one, but two simultaneous hatchings.

"Gabriel!" Calandra cried, diving towards the cherub and throwing a timed protective shield around him. _The fruits will be lost_, he realized with horror as the two laboring meliads began to thrash their branches in pain, some fruits coming dangerously close to being smashed. Frantically, he directed his hands at the two transitioning eggs.

On the other side of the nursery, Rayyu felt the sudden surge of a familiar energy and sped over meliads. As he neared the source of energy, the agitation in the meliads increased and Calandra came into view, huge amounts of energy in the form of light and heat being injected into a cream colored egg and a lavender one. The export of energy was taking its toll on the angel as his body dropped with each second. The two eggs began to vibrate more and more and Rayyu knew the cherubs would hatch soon. The amount of energy remaining in Calandra couldn't possibly be enough to create a shield that could withstand the force with which the shells would shatter. In an instant, the meliads had drawn their protective branches around their fruits and Calandra's name was lost in the explosion of the two eggs.

* * *

His movements were unusually sluggish when he regained consciousness. _What did I do?_ He lifted his eyelids with effort and was greeted by the sight of meliad branches. _Oh. That's right. I tried to hatch the ripe fruits. Did they hatch?_ He tried to sit up, but stopped when his muscles struggled to obey. Exhausted, he lay on the nursery floor and allowed his eyelids to droop. As he was about to fall asleep, a frantic voice pierced his foggy mind. 

"Gabriel!" Rayyu forced branches apart, eyes scanning all possible places where a cherub could fit. "Gabriel!"

The cherub opened his mouth to respond, but only a faint gargling sound found its way out. He closed his mouth to swallow some saliva and tried again. "Here," he croaked. "Rayyu, I'm here."

In almost an instant, Rayyu was at his side, lifting his fragile body gently. "Are you hurt?" he asked even as he checked the cherub's white robes for any bloodstains.

"Don't know," Gabriel mumbled. "Don't feel much."

Rayyu stood and laid the cherub at the crook in a meliad. "All right, Gabriel," he stroked Gabriel's face the way he'd seen Calandra do to soothe him. "Just stay here, alright? Don't move. I'm going to find Calandra."

"Cala?"

"Yes, I'll find him."

"I'm tired."

"Sleep now. Cala and I will bring you home. Sleep."

Gabriel nodded weakly then closed his eyes. Rayyu scanned his body for any sign of injury one more time before crumpling to the ground, clutching his wing and breathing heavily. Though his shield had protected him from the shell pieces, the force of two eggs exploding simultaneously had thrown him against one of the meliads, crushing his left wing in the impact. It was a few moments before he was able to force the pain into the back of his mind and stood to begin searching for Calandra. Rayyu wasn't naïve. Drained from hatching two eggs, he knew well that calling would be useless. It didn't take him long to find him. Pinned to a nearby meliad, Calandra hung from the multiple shell fragments that had pierced his body. Even in death he appeared beautiful, the dark liquid contrasting against his pale complexion and once pristine robes.

To feel is weakness. To show weakness is to die. Angels don't feel. Angels don't know compassion. Angels don't know love. Yet as he removed the body from the injured meliad, Rayyu failed to tamp down the upwelling of emotion in his throat, nose, and eyes. The sensation was new to him. The salty solution was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome as he held the still warm body to his own, silent sobs wracking his frame. His misery was disturbed when a small whimper emanated from where meliads 36 and 37 stood. He tenderly arranged Calandra's body, wiped his eyes, and strode to the origin of the noise.

Two newborn cherubs lay naked side by side, their hair and feathers still damp with the juice and nutrients the fruit had nourished them with. Rayyu picked them up stiffly, one in each arm, and observed the two. The one who had whimpered flailed his chubby arms and managed to grab a hold of Rayyu's hair. The other lay quietly in his arm. He didn't know how long he stood there, holding the two cherubs. He didn't know when or how he managed to bring the newborns, Gabriel, and Calandra to a separate nursery. It wasn't until Gabriel, holding Calandra's cold body, began to wail did his angelic dignity cave and his sorrow joined the cherubs'.

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Allusions and Explanations:  
Meliads: Tree nymphs (Ancient Greece). In this story they are the female angels.

Fruits and eggs will be used interchangeably in this story as what angels are born from. Generally, I'll use "fruits" when referring to it when it's still soft, and "eggs" when it hardens and a cherub is about to be born.

Cherub: An angel child. The angel eighteen is 100 years old, but they appear to reach physical maturity in only two years. This will be explained in another author's note similar to the one that opened this chapter.

Sprouts: A meliad child. Meliads reach full maturity at 50 years, but continue to grow throughout their lifetime.

Poseidon: The ancient Greek god of the seas.

Gabriel: Ah yes, the only non-original character in this chapter that people should recognize. We see him as a cherub in this chapter, but we'll get to see him mature. In Islamic culture, he's the messenger who enlightened Muhammad. In Christianity, I believe he's the one who blows the horn to signify the end of the world, but I'm not too sure about that. I get most of my religious folklore from my Muslim friend, so I'm not too knowledgeable about Christian folklore. If anybody would like to educate me, please do so.

Rayyu: Israfel mentions him in the third volume after he's torn his wings off. "I don't care what Rayyu wants." I decided to expand on him a bit because he seems to be important to Israfel.

Calandra: Actually, it's a girl's name, which means singing bird. I just liked the name. It also explains the title of the chapter.

Eros: Cupid. The Greek god who shoots arrows that make the victim fall in love with the first thing they see of the opposite gender. He's the son of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. In this story, it's just a term of endearment, like "sweetie", so when Calandra calls Gabriel Eros, it doesn't mean he has a different name. You may have noticed only Calandra calls him that.

Amphitrite: Queen of the seas. She's Poseidon's wife.

Nymph: Nature spirit (Ancient Greece). Once again, I use this just as a term of endearment, but this one is more intimate. I suppose this could substitute as "love". So when Calandra says, "Not here, nymph," think "Not here, love."

Cala: Just a shortened version of Calandra.

I hope that clarifies things. If not, just ask and I'll try to explain better. Also, if you would like me to include figures from other mythological or religious stories that originate around the Mediterranean or Middle East, please tell me and I'll consider it.

_Posted: 6 October 2006  
Next Post: 23 October 2006_


	2. Memory

Once upon a time, a long time ago, there lived a teenage girl who experienced a great amount of pressure from society. She longed for the old times, when life was less rigid and strict copyright laws did not exist; when Bach could alter Vivaldi's work and claim it as his own. She knew, in the time of the European Age of Enlightenment, she could have safely claimed the angels as her own, but sadly, in this modern age, her wretched soul and heart became the gateway of despair as she forlornly gave up the claim to the all-mighty Sakurako Gokurakuin.

Chapter Illustration: http:// www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 43445287?qo15&qby3Adesert-illusion&qhsort3Atime+-in3Ascraps

Another interesting aspect of the angel race concerns aging. Unlike all organisms on earth, which eventually weaken from multiple cell divisions over time, the angels show no such signs of age once they have reached adulthood. The angels' DNA polymerase appears to transcribe the genetic coding perfectly, with no shortening of the telomeres. As a result, it is impossible for an angel to die of old age. In fact, it is believed that the older the angel is, the less likely he is to die. However, the species is not immune to disease or physical injury. In fact, most angel deaths are caused by fatal injuries, usually during battle against a younger, more powerful angel. Evolution has promoted rapid maturity and the angel population, in effect, reaches maturity within an average of two years. Beginning as small cherubs, the growing body fat easily converts into muscle and the body cells undergo rapid mitosis to promote growth and rapid healing. The body ceases to change in appearance once the angel has reached the human prime of health. As a result, they appear to remain eternally between the ages of fifteen to 25 years of age.

Fallen  
Chapter 2  
Memory  
By Mirage

It was time. Still within their critical learning period, the two cherubs had finally reached the age Rayyu had deemed appropriate for sparring. The column field Gabriel waited in was void of any activity, one of the many places where angels were known to train. Rayyu had been given temporary leave after attaining custody of all three cherubs and now that the two new additions to the family had outgrown their cherub awkwardness, he returned to the nursery, leaving them to Gabriel to teach them what he had learned the previous year.

"I don't want to learn how to fight. It hurts even when we play together at home," a familiar voice complained.

"We _have_ to," a second voice answered. "We're angels. Besides, it'll make Rayyu happy."

"Are you sure?"

"My instincts are screaming it."

A pair of cherubs rounded a block of columns, one with an extra pair of wings folded by his head and one with glittering lavender eyes. The two halted in front of their comrade, though the years of growing together prevented them from the formal greetings that occurred between master and pupil.

"You're late," Gabriel pointed at the position of the spindle installed in the columns.

"What did you expect?" the purple-eyed cherub replied. "There are only 24 hours in a sun and we need at least ten for sleeping."

"Lafayel," Gabriel growled, "_humans_ need ten hours for sleeping."

Lafayel shrugged. "Well, since angels consume more energy, I thought we'd need even more sleep."

Gabriel closed his eyes crossed his arms, one eyebrow twitching slightly in irritation. "Israfel. Correct your comrade, seeing as how he evidently does not pay attention in class."

The four-winged angel sent his friend an apologetic look. "Our bodies are actually more efficient at _extracting_ energy, Lafayel. We learned that two moons ago."

Lafayel waved the correction aside casually. "Jibril, you said we were going to spar today," he said, not bothering to keep the eagerness out of his voice. "Let's begin."

Gabriel shook his head at Lafayel's cherub-like habits, but resisted the temptation to smack the younger angel. Instead, he drew a ribbon out from underneath his robes and fastened his hair in a high ponytail. "Make sure your hair is out of your face," he instructed, handing two more ribbons to his comrades. "It will only get in the way."

"Missionaries always keep their hair down," Lafayel grumbled, still holding the ribbon as Israfel pulled his blond locks behind him.

"Missionaries are not cherubs learning how to spar for the first time," Gabriel snapped.

The cherub shrugged and began to braid his hair. Gabriel suppressed a sigh. _Always the non-conformist; he just _has_ to express individuality._ "Now, shed your outer layer," he barked. "Loose clothing is a disadvantage as it can be easily caught and used against you." They obeyed immediately, dropping their robes in a pile at their feet. Gabriel kept both layers on, deciding to interfere as little as possible once the two began their mock battle.

"Jibril?" Israfel looked questioningly at the older cherub.

"Experience is the best teacher." He smiled in reassurance. "Now, I want you to go through your preliminary exercises to warm up. After that I want you to do simulation number eight. I will correct any mistakes you are careless enough to make. Understood?" Even Lafayel bowed his head, pressing his hand above his heart, a display of respect and compliance. "Begin."

* * *

Heaven's mess hall was never quiet. Squabbles over food and positions between angels were common, especially among the cherubs. Wings were displayed and auras fluctuated, but on the pillar where Rayyu and his cherubs sat, each angel ate his meal in silence. He did not ask how their training progressed and Gabriel did not offer it for conversation. 

To Israfel and Lafayel, meals had always been so; no playful banter between the cherubs, no discussions of how to improve, just tense silence. Each relayed in his mind how he had attacked, defended, and dodged, and stored the information away for later, when they would be able to spar again. Gabriel stared at his own plate, though it wasn't the training that occupied his mind.

_"Rayyu! I beat Hermes today in sparring."_

_Rayyu glanced up from Lafayel, who was squirming away from the fruit Rayyu was trying to put in his mouth. "That's great," he said distractedly, though he spared a strained smile. "Feed Israfel."_

_Gabriel glanced at the cherub busily sucking the juice out of the fruit piece in his hand. Feeling eyes on him, Israfel popped the food out his mouth and smiled, almost shyly. "Jibril?" He offered the mashed fruit in his fist. "Hungry?"_

_"It seems 'Gabriel' is too hard to pronounce. Right, Israfel?" Rayyu chuckled, not noticing Lafayel taking a tentative lick of the fruit._

_Israfel giggled. "Jibril! Jibril!"_

After Calandra's death, Rayyu had preoccupied himself with raising the cherubs, forcing all despair to the back of his mind. Not until the two younger cherubs had been excused did Gabriel dare address the turmoil that he sensed within his guardian. "Do you miss Cala?"

His first response was silence, but that was to be expected. Rayyu was a proud angel, despite his low rank. "Angels control their emotions, Gabriel. It makes us stronger."

"Nobody shows them. The only angel I have ever known to share his emotions was Cala." _And you. When he was alive, you could feel._

"Calandra was unique. He lost his life because he allowed his emotions to control him. So much power, but a foolish heart."

Gabriel bowed his head. Calandra had died for him. Died for Lafayel and Israfel when they were not yet born. Died for the colony. "He lost his life to protect the future generation's lives."

"He was a fool not to protect himself first."

_Yes, Rayyu. Admit it. Admit that you wish he were here instead of me. Lafayel. Israfel. Tell me you want him back. That you grieve for him, that you cared for him when he was alive, that you cared for _me_ when he was alive. Even if it hurts me now, I need to know you can still care._

But Rayyu refused to continue and more prodding on Gabriel's part would be a challenge from a lower ranking angel. He would gain nothing more from digging into the older angels' past relationship. Rayyu would only come to him if he wanted to. Gabriel finished his meal quickly and excused himself.

* * *

Nobody was watching. Rayyu glanced around to make sure all three cherubs were asleep before slipping out the door. He allowed himself to fall against the smooth wall, spreading his wings to slow his descent enough to prevent a fatality, but folded enough for gravity to make him pass through the open doorways as only a flash of white. He would be too easily spotted if he flew and Rayyu wanted to remain inconspicuous. He landed lightly on the floor and folded his wings, deciding to walk. His destination was not far and his leg muscles were stronger than most angels. Most angels would not bother to look down and his robes would be harder to distinguish from the feathers that camouflaged him. 

The barracks were made of rows of thick walls with sliding doors every few meters. Each door opened into small rectangular rooms where the angels slept and meditated. Piles of feathers gathered at the bottom of the narrow halls that joined into a main hall, which led to the other three sections.

The docks, originally meant to hold their ships, were usually vacant, only used several times every century. The missionaries that pioneered the crafts were rarely at the colony, spending most of their time in other galaxies where they would eliminate threats against the angel species and often obtain exotic delicacies to bring back to the colony. There had been a time when they had retained communication with other colonies, such as Hades, but now the closest angel colony, Hell, lay in another solar system.

Beside the docks lay the mess hall, made up of columns of various heights and diameters. Along the back was a row in which all were of equal height and diameter, each displaying heaps of fruit and delicacies from other worlds. When meals were not being served, the mess hall became the learning site where cherubs would learn maneuvering and basic defense. Old column fields were more commonly used by the older angels and occasionally, they would host a duel between angels fighting for rank or territory.

Rayyu bypassed the mess hall and cut through the docks, heading straight for the nursery. Nobody would be there. Angels are selfish creatures; they don't care for anything other than themselves. The nursery was similar in design to the barracks, but instead of rows, the walls were arranged in rectangles, surrounding courtyards. At each corner, instead of a room with two doors (one opening to the hall and one leading into the courtyard), there was an open path leading into the orchard. Rayyu passed through the arch and entered the dimmed courtyard. The meliads were silent and still, a few weighed down with their fruits.

_This is where we met. He was barely 300 and still acted like a cherub._ Rayyu stopped in between two meliads. Their fruits were gone and their trunks bore scars of previous births. Veteran breeders. They would lose their fertility in another five hundred years or so. He turned when he felt a gentle brush against his left wing.

_"They can speak if you let them to. Not in words, but in their actions, their leaves, their branches. Meliads are also angels."_

36. She was one of the oldest living meliads in the orchard as well as one of the healthiest. Far past the age in which her eggs should have declined in fertility, she had still managed to give birth to several more healthy cherubs. Israfel was her youngest and her last. 36 caressed his face. He smiled bitterly.

"He was a fool, wasn't he? Sacrificing his own life to save another's. Stupid angel. Only the strong persevere. Look at you. You're the perfect example. Several thousand years old and you've only recently stopped giving birth." He laughed.

_I was well taken care of. I was raised with gentle hands._

"Gentle? Angels aren't _gentle_. Old meliad. Have you finally lost all your senses? Have _I _lost my senses? I'm talking to a meliad, and she's talking back! I should be at the barracks, asleep."

_Rayyu._

"It's all his fault, do you realize that? It's all his fault. Before I met him, I was like any other angel. I planned to challenge the first missionary or sentinel I saw once I was strong enough. Then _he_ had to come along and make me soft. I was weak before, but never _soft_. And I didn't care. Then he _died_ and I'm suddenly finding myself wishing he were alive. It's against our nature, isn't it? 36? An angel isn't supposed to want another angel to _live_, does he? They'll have to fight eventually, won't they?" It was that feeling again. That burning that had engulfed him the day it happened, but this time it was stronger. Water was flowing from his eyes unchecked and he didn't feel them. 36 continued to caress his face, brushing the tears away. He barely noticed when she held up a lock of his hair. He managed a weak smile. "So you were there? It was probably before you were transferred up. We were in another orchard. It was a meaningless conversation. Just another of our humanity banters."

_"Have you ever wondered why we have to keep our hair long? Even though it can be an impairment during battle?"_

_Rayyu glanced up from the birthing report he was writing. "It's to impress the humans. Those insignificant creatures are more obedient if we fit their imaginations better. Where are you trying to lead this conversation, Calandra?"_

_Calandra smiled. "You know me too well," he laughed. "Very well. I learned another interesting fact about the humans from one of the missionary apprentices."_

_Rayyu groaned. "The last time that happened, you made me soak in the juices so long that I smelled like fruit for a moon."_

_"Please? At least hear it."_

_"Don't expect me to act on it."_

_He laughed again. "It's just a small thing," he said. "I've heard in some places humans cut their hair to mourn. They give it to friends they will never see again."_

_Rayyu scoffed. "It's a useless tradition. Humans may do it, but angels will never have to."_

_"Why?"_

_"We don't mourn."_

_A light touch on his hand. Jade eyes gazed into his. "I would mourn for you," Calandra said, suddenly serious. "I would cut my hair for you."_

36 dropped her branches and brushed the tips against her roots. Rayyu touched one of the braids by his face and stepped closer to the meliad. She draped her branches over his form.

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Allusions and Explanations:  
DNA polymerase: the thing that copies your genetic information

Telomeres: the extra codes at the ends of DNA strands. They are codes of just ATATAT etc. and contain no genetic material. It's just there to prevent any cutting of the important genetic material. They are also a possible explanation for aging as they get shorter every time the DNA is copied.

Mitosis: a form of cell division in which the cell copies its genetic material then splits into two daughter cells.

Jibril: the Arabic form of Gabriel's name. I felt I should include this because I'm using the Islamic names for all the other angels.

Hermes: The Greek god of mischief.

It is implied that by Gabriel not mentioning their training that Lafayel and Israfel shouldn't, as they are his students and therefore lower on the hierarchy.

Cutting Hair: Yes, this is actually true. In Chinese and Japanese culture, one cuts ones hair to mourn the loss of a loved one. In China, it would be given to a friend that you'd never see again and in Japan, it's for a tragedy in love. I'm sure there are other places where hair is significant (I remember an Indian girl telling me that hair is a gift from God, so you shouldn't cut it, but I don't know what religion she follows), but I chose to use this one because it fits and I know Chinese culture pretty well.

_Posted: 23 October 2006  
Next Post: 4 December 2006_


	3. Others Must Fail

O Israfel, Gabriel! wherefore art thou Lafayel  
Deny that creator and refuse thy series;  
Or if thou wilt not, be but subjects of my own  
And I'll be a loyal fan fiction writer

'Tis but a copyright that is my enemy;  
Thou art thyself, but not a Gokurakuin.  
What's a Gokurakuin? It is nor hand nor foot,  
Nor arm nor face, nor any other part  
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!  
What's in a name? that which we call a rose  
By any other name would smell as sweet;  
So Rayyu would, if not Rayyu call'd,  
Retain that dear perfection that he owes  
Without thy title—Azrael doff thy name;  
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,  
Take all myself

Chapter Illustration: http://www. deviantart. com/ deviation/57361638/

Questions have also been raised about how angels have their so-called "powers". Most angel theorists believe that the various displays of seemingly magical powers are apparitions of the angels' excess energy. This species' body cells have been shown to have more mitochondria than any other living cell. It is not certain how their bodies store the excess energy, though it has been proposed that they retain more glycogen than earth animals, or that their form of short-term energy storage is easier to break down and convert. However they manage their energy, it is believed that they have the ability to manipulate the energy so that it can be used as weaponry. Though energy cannot be converted into mass, as it is forbidden by Newton's laws of energy and mass, excess can destroy a cell, and thus used to kill an opponent. In this way, angels penetrate their enemies with their surplus energy, causing cells to explode and wounds to appear as though the victim has been stabbed, beaten, or in any way physically assaulted, depending on the pattern the energy was injected.

Fallen  
Chapter 3  
Others Must Fail  
By Mirage

The angel slammed against the pillar, cracking the hard stone and drawing the attention of several by passers. Both wings broken and bent, his body slid down the smooth pillar, accelerating as he fell. Falling almost parallel to him was another angel, four wings spread to help slow him down as he neared the bottom. The injured angel lifted his head and swiped his arm across, bolts of energy flying across the short distance to the other angel. The attack was blocked quickly and from behind the shield a third angel rose and slammed his hand against the loser's throat. His eyes narrowed as he regarded his gasping victim. "Are you alright, Israfel?"

"No harm done," the four-winged angel replied. "His power does not match mine. You need not have interfered."

Lafayel tightened his hold on his quarry and was answered with another gasp and a desperate barrage of clawing. Long nails dragged across his arm, drawing blood, but he did not flinch. "You have too much mercy," he said. "You would have let this weakling live." His fingers clenched a little more.

"He has learned his lesson. There is no need for pointless bloodshed."

"That attitude will kill you someday," Lafayel warned.

Israfel stared at his companion coolly. "Someday, but not today. Let him go."

The two locked in a staring contest, each trying to bend the other to his will with just his gaze.

"I have… information," the loser gasped, the blood completely drained from his face. "It… may prove… useful."

Lafayel broke the eye contact with Israfel and turned his gaze toward the half dead angel in his hand and loosened his grip ever so slightly. "If it is as useful as you believe, I may yield to Israfel's request."

"The blue planet fleet is returning within a moon. I hear they need more missionaries."

Lafayel narrowed his eyes even more. "So, not only a weakling, but an eavesdropper as well."

"He gave us an advantage over other cherubs, Lafayel," Israfel argued. "He has earned his life."

His companion hissed, fingers tightening again. Dark bruises were already visible on the delicate skin.

"Lafayel." Israfel's voice began to lose its calm.

Lafayel made the mistake of looking back into his sweating face and poorly masked terror. With a growl, he shoved the half dead angel at his companion. As he stumbled into Israfel's arms, Lafayel collected a spear of energy and pierced the angel through the very center of his back. He fell, dying in Israfel's arms. Dark red liquid gushed out of his body as his heart continued to pump rhythmically, staining their snowy robes and polluting the air with its thick sweet scent. Israfel's legs gave way and he stared at the dying angel slumped against him. His shock was only momentary, however, as he quickly moved to try to heal the wound. The blood flow lessened. The life energy drained away. The oxygen deprivation due to Lafayel's strangling and the immense blood loss had damaged the body too much. Israfel looked down. Blank, unfocused eyes looked up.

* * *

"He was going to kill you!" 

"He was too weak! There was nothing he could do to me."

"It does not take much to kill you if he had just sent a small amount of energy in the right place!"

"I saved him from _you_!"

"You _shamed_ him by saving him! Get that through your thick skull!"

"Israfel, there is no winner until there is a kill," Gabriel said as he floated down. His eyes took in the scene before him: Lafayel turned toward him expectantly, waiting for him to contribute his views, Israfel kneeling, caked in blood with wide pleading eyes, and the dead angel cradled in his arms, face forever frozen in shock. He landed softly. "You are fortunate it was I who heard your quarrel first. Another angel would have come with the sole purpose to kill you both."

"Jibril…." Tears trembled for a moment before sliding down his cheeks slowly.

Gabriel fixed his stare upon the four-winged angel. "There is no victory without death."

"Is it not enough just to have established my supremacy?"

"By allowing your opponent to live, you give him the time he needs to train and exact vengeance."

"Why would he seek revenge?"

"Are you daft?" Lafayel burst out.

Gabriel held up a hand to still him and he fell silent. The older angel knelt down to the same level as Israfel and placed a hand over his companion's heart. "You know as well as I, and any other angel in Heaven." He stared pointedly at Israfel's amber eyes. "Pride is the core of every angel. Pride in our abilities, our strength, and our survival. When that pride is injured, and deeply through a shameful defeat, we naturally seek revenge and force our antagonizer to feel the same pain as we, but with absolute lack of mercy."

"Victory is not enough. Others must fail," Lafayel said.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes slightly and turned his attention towards the other angel. "Where did you learn that?"

He shrugged. "There was a scripture at the nursery. It was an old report on the mission's progress in the blue planet."

"Never say anything from that scripture again," Gabriel demanded. "Rayyu will have your wings for it."

"Jibril," Israfel tugged on his role model's sleeve. "He said that the blue planet missionaries are arriving for recruits soon."

Gabriel slid the body off Israfel's lap and stood. "Return to the barracks," he ordered. "I will find more information. Lafayel, help Israfel erase any signs of tears before Rayyu sees you, or any other angel for that matter. You may be killed on the spot if one notices."

The two nodded quickly. Lafayel bent to help Israfel up and the two spread their wings and launched together. Gabriel glanced at the prone figure before he too leaped into the air, his wings catching the current and lifting him upwards. Dead pleading eyes watched their departure. Near the edge of the mess hall, the body would decompose until the pure white feathers littering the floor covered it and it was all incinerated together, leaving no evidence of a disagreement, a fight, or a kill.

* * *

One of the problems with a society built around physical strength and power was that it was difficult to obtain information. Verbal communication not involving the party was rare between angels past the younger cherub stage. Gabriel glided through the crowds silently. For the most part, all he could hear was the beating of wings and the occasional scuffle. He slowed when he recognized a powerful angel, but would quickly move on once he saw his target was alone. 

"My Lord."

He perked at the title and scanned the area where the voice originated. He used his eyes, not his aura to avoid detection. His eyes landed on an angel beating his six wings to stay in the air. Azrael, the most powerful angel in Heaven flared his aura briefly in a show of unmatched authority. All angels within a ten-meter radius were engulfed in engulfed in a burning heat that sent some of the weaker ones into shock, their frozen bodies falling. Those fortunate enough to have fallen onto piles of feathers only suffered several broken bones. The majority landed on the stone floor. Gabriel watched in amazement as the angel that had addressed Azrael merely shuddered briefly and bowed his head, his hand over his heart. Gabriel himself had experienced intense pain, but had managed to remain airborne. He waited until the six-winged angel withdrew his presence before drifting towards the pair slowly.

* * *

Israfel and Lafayel flew side by side in silence. Shame kept Israfel's eyes averted and the tension between the two thickened. He should have known that the battle was not won until the opponent was dead. Society had been drilling it into his mind since he was a cherub. The friction between him and Lafayel, as well as the impending tension would occur once Rayyu learned of the experience, could have been easily avoided. Just one well-aimed blast and he would be returning to the barracks to praise instead of disappointment. Anger and guilt welled up in him, but he tamped it down. _Pride_, he reminded himself. _A true angel has pride_. 

The two angels flew at a moderate pace, neither making eye contact with the other nor acting as though their only relationship was anything more than two happening to have the same destination. Suddenly, a wave of heat passed through every angel's body and Israfel stopped flying. He remained airborne, suppressing his own aura to acknowledge his inferiority to the owner of the powerful aura. His eyes widened as he felt another more familiar presence leave his side, falling down. Still trying to conserve his energy and keep his presence at a minimum, Israfel darted down and caught Lafayel's arm. The two remained suspended until the aura retracted. Lafayel broke free of Israfel's grasp and they looked down at the bloody lumps dotting the otherwise white floor.

"Who was that?" Israfel asked.

"God," Lafayel answered. He stared at Israfel. "Did you not feel anything?"

"I felt it," he said. "You can't not feel an aura. Especially one as powerful as the Gods'."

Lafayel just continued to stare. "You were not affected."

"It burned."

"Was it painful?"

"Only a little."

He scanned Israfel's face to make sure. Wordlessly, he turned and continued to fly towards the barracks with his companion following close behind. _I fell. I _fell. Lafayel's face contorted. _I couldn't move and almost died and _he_ saved me. He barely felt anything._ He forced himself to stop thinking. The next thought was unacceptable. He would never admit to it, even internally. Lafayel glanced behind for a split second, turned to look ahead, and refused to look back again.

* * *

His stalker was good. Joseph had yet to notice him. Azrael drifted toward the docking platforms, his advisor trailing behind him, rattling off the various times and platforms the returning fleet would be docking. Iblis's missions at the blue planet were the most successful of the fifty Azrael had sent out across the galaxy. He would have to be fairly rewarded. "Joseph," he said abruptly, interrupting a list of the items the fleet was to bring back. "Prepare the platforms for landing and be sure to arrange the proper carriers for the corresponding items. Meet me at platform three at the sun's third quarter." 

Joseph bowed. "Yes, my Lord."

Azrael continued towards the platforms even as his advisor left to fetch guardians. The corridor he was in was lowly populated and he fanned his aura out, making sure to keep the intensity to a minimum. He smiled. The tag-along knew he had been discovered and was floating in one place. The angel approached him hesitantly, knowing he had no chance of escape. Azrael looked him over. Young, only a few years out of the cherub stage, probably seeking the time the fleet would arrive in hopes to join the mission. The young angel remained distanced, afraid to approach his God. Azrael probed at his aura slightly and concealed his surprise well. The presence was similar. He smiled inwardly, careful not to allow his thoughts to leak into his aura. "Here. Four suns," he said. "The fleet arrives in four suns."

Gabriel blinked. He bowed, and the two parted.

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Allusions and Explanations:  
Mitochondria: An organelle that converts food into energy

Glycogen: After a meal, your body's short-term energy storage is in the form of glycogen, which is easily broken down. Long-term energy storage is in body fat.

Iblis: In the Islamic faith, he was a jinn, a creature created out of fire, like humans are created out of clay, which defied Allah and became Shaytaan. In the Christian faith, he is the equivalent of Lucifer, the fallen angel who became Satan.

Azrael: Islamic angel of death. No, he is not described to have three pairs of wings, I just imagined him that way.

God: No, it's not what you think. A God is merely the equivalent of a king in the angel world, thus Azrael is the God of the colony. Likewise, Heaven is just the name of the colony.

Joseph: Thinking along the lines of Joseph and the Technicolor Dream Coat, he was a Hebrew dream interpreter in Ancient Egypt. I just needed a biblical sounding name and chose the first one that popped into my head.

Guardians: They act as servants, guards, and police.

_Posted: 4 December 2006  
Next Post: 25 December 2006 (Will be late, seeing as how I'll be away with no internet)  
__Reposted: 28 December 2006_


	4. Parting Paths

'Twas the night before posting and all through the house  
One person was stirring, ignoring the mouse

Queen of procrastination, she typed frantically away  
About angels not hers, beg as she may

Late into the night, her mind was getting weary  
'Till she finally gave up, saying "Go to sleep, dearie"

"The angels can wait, you have all day tomorrow  
To heap upon them all, sorrow after sorrow

"Unlike Lafayel, you need nine hours of sleep  
As shown this morning, when you ignored the alarm's beep"

And so she turned the light off and snuggled into bed  
Only a sentence was written—she faced the morrow with dread

The angelic hierarchy is based solely on leadership qualities including power, strength, and intelligence. At the head of the social pyramid is the God, or colony leader. He has all the absolute powers of a human monarch, but it has been shown that Gods rarely extend their powers more than necessary. More often than not, Gods allow their subjects to resolve their own skirmishes. Because Gods are the most shrewd and most powerful angels within the colony, leadership is only changed when the current God falls before a more powerful angel. Any angel can challenge the God, though few try, valuing their lives over absolute power. One of the main duties of a God, or any other powerful angel, is to mate. For the sake of continuing the species and ensuring strong future generations, a God is expected to give a sample of his sperm to the nurses every moon.

Fallen  
Chapter 4  
Parting Paths  
By Mirage

Platform three quickly filled up. The presence of a higher-than-average number of angels had drawn attention to those not aware of the event. Cherubs jostled each other and some of the shorter tempered angels had enough gall to send a few energy bolts flying. Gabriel watched Azrael's face crinkle slightly in disgust as guardians were sent to clean the newly spilled blood.

He placed a firm hand on his companion's arm to keep the younger angel from healing the injured. Israfel looked back up at him with pleading eyes but was answered with only a stern look. He lowered his eyes in shame and guilt as Gabriel turned his face back to the landing dock.

The sighting of the first ship was accompanied by murmurs as those present out of curiosity began inquiring as to the event. Gabriel and Israfel straightened and tried to peer over the heads of the crowd. A barely audible sigh of disappointment passed as it landed at platform six. The same happened with the next ship, and the next, until several angels began to fly away. Gabriel glanced at Azrael. The God stared at the sky in slight impatience as each ship docked close by. Gabriel briefly wondered how nobody beside himself seemed to notice the God's poorly hidden emotions, but his attention was diverted back to the sky at the sudden flash of hope across Azrael's face.

Another ship approached, just as the others had before it. Israfel trembled in excitement as it neared the platform. The ship steered itself carefully before lowering onto the empty space and the crowd surged forward a bit. The constant murmuring and shifting stopped as the bottom of the ship slid open. Azrael, with his entourage of four main advisors rose to greet the five white figures that had dropped out of the hull. With all six wings spread, the God extended his presence. The leader of the fleet lowered his own, and leaving his commanding officers, floated towards the supreme angel, hand over his heart and head bowed. Azrael withdrew his aura and offered Iblis a ribbon. The lower-ranking angel swept his hair up into a high ponytail and secured it with the ribbon. Iblis, Commander of the Blue Planet mission, had returned to Heaven.

* * *

"Lafayel!" 

He ignored him.

"Lafayel!" Israfel yanked on Lafayel's trailing braid.

"Gaarrrrgh!" Lafayel spun around to glare at his harasser, who flapped his wings steadily, smiling. "Don't do that!" he shouted.

Israfel chuckled slightly. "Cherub-like tactics still work. What are you doing in the nursery section? Didn't you go see the fleet's arrival?"

"I went," he grumbled.

"I didn't see you."

"I went alone."

"You have been rising early as well," Israfel said. "It's been four suns since we have eaten or trained together, and you come back to the barracks late as well." Israfel narrowed his eyes. "You are avoiding me."

Lafayel avoided eye contact with his interrogator.

"Any insight as to why?" Israfel pressed. "I thought the issue with victory and death was settled. I still disagree with you, but I have acknowledged that in Heaven, it may be the case, but I still believe angels can treat each other more—"

"Humanely?" Lafayel cut in. "In case you haven't noticed, Israfel, we are angels, not humans! We are superior. Our species has even survived our planet's destruction. Why should we regress to uncivilized behaviors within our society?"

Israfel bristled. "Humans are no more uncivilized than we are," he argued. "In fact, they may be even _more_ so than angels."

""And how would you know that? You've never even seen a human before in your life."

"I found records," he said. "You are not the only one who has read Calandra's collection. I suppose even despite Gabriel's urgings that you stop you have continued to read those scrolls. Admit it. You find humans just as fascinating as I do."

"I did when I was a cherub. Then I learned how foolish those insignificant creatures are."

Israfel snorted. "Insignificant. That is how you view the beings that provide our food. The beings that keep us alive and _worship_ us. And you believe they are insignificant? Misled, yes. But by us. How is it civilized when a species willfully manipulates another into groveling at our feet and taking pleasure in being so humiliated? Is there any pride in such a dishonorable act?"

Lafayel stared at his companion. "Honor has nothing to do with survival," he finally said. "Manipulation is a part of angelic life, Israfel. It has been so for the past millennia." He descended softly, Israfel following close behind. "Do you know how angels survived the death of Nirvana?" he continued. "We already had colonies established. They were all military based, stationed strategically within the galaxy to protect the planet. Then the planet died. Just exploded one day and wiped out half the colonies as well. Only the ones placed further out remained. Heaven, Hell, Hades. And what do you think it was like? No food. No water. Only a few meliads at each colony to continue the species. The only way to survive was through missions. Manipulating aliens to do our bidding just so we could stay alive. It was honor or life, Israfel. Honor has been dead for centuries."

"But the missions instilled honor in the humans."

"The early missions. The ones that consisted of angels that were all wiped out due to their soft nature."

Israfel landed lightly beside Lafayel. "We are not wholly dependent on humans anymore, Lafayel," he said softly. "We are self-sustaining now. Why not revive the old ways? Cultivate emotion and morals again. There is no more need for manipulation."

Silence. The lavender-eyed angel stood surrounded by piles of soft white feathers confronted by the four-winged angel. Lafayel contemplated his answer before replying uncharacteristically quietly, "It has been a part of life too long. Angel can not let go of strength and power." He heard the rustle of clothing and feathers as Israfel took off and refused to look up.

"It is better he realize this truth before it is too late."

Lafayel snapped his head up at the familiar voice. Rayyu leaned against the frame of the doorway of Orchard C, arms crossed over his chest. The nurse walked towards his charge and put one hand on his shoulder. "That cherub had great power and can achieve great things," he said, looking up at the retreating figure. "He may even become God one day." He looked at Lafayel, watching him with wide eyes. "I am grateful to you, Lafayel. He may take your words to better heart than he does mine." He squeezed his shoulder then walked to another orchard. Lafayel lifted his head and stared at the space where Israfel had disappeared from and could not help but feel he had betrayed his lifelong companion.

* * *

Gabriel broke his concentration when Israfel entered the empty room. "I see you have not retrieved Lafayel," he said. The younger angel merely settled beside him to meditate. "Have you settled your dispute with him?" Israfel tensed. "I see. My suspicions have been confirmed." 

"As have mine," Israfel said bitterly.

"He has angelic pride."

"Too much, in my opinion."

Gabriel frowned. "As do you," he said. Israfel opened his mouth to object but was stopped by a stern look. "You have the pride of an angel. Perhaps not in the angelic race, but the same amount of it, nonetheless."

Israfel glared at his role model halfheartedly. "I do not want to be associated with angels anymore," he admitted. "There is so much… _pain_ in our history. Ever since the death of Nirvana, there have been no records of good deeds done by our race. I wonder if we all should have died with our planet."

"What is good, Israfel?" Gabriel asked. "And even if you are to answer that, are you wondering if it is good for the survival of our species or of the well-being of others? Life is a cruel thing, Israfel, and only those powerful enough to survive and overcome it can prove themselves worthy. That is why angels have risen in power."

"And fallen in morals."

Gabriel brushed the bangs out of his companion's forehead. "Our ancestors made sacrifices," he said, staring into his amber eyes. "It is not our place to judge what they believed to be the best option at the time. We cannot change things as they are now, and may as well find ways to cope with things as they come." He searched his eyes for understanding. "You have great power within you, Israfel. Come with me to the blue planet. Rise through the ranks with me, and make a difference in the colony, or if not that, the fleet."

Israfel stared back at Gabriel. "And Lafayel?"

The older angel dropped his hand to his side and resumed the meditating position. "Whether or not you choose to inform Lafayel of this is your choice. He is only average and may not be accepted as an apprentice by an angel of this fleet. There may be hope, but the first choice is yours."

"Jibril, is there an angel that may consider us?"

"I have spoken to several. There is one called Abraham who has agreed to observe a sparring session tomorrow at the sun's third eighth."

Israfel nodded, despite Gabriel's eyes being closed and began the regular breathing cycle. In. Feel your strength, power, and energy. Out. Expel your inner weakness, fear, and turmoil. In. Consider the differences you could make. Out. Release Heaven's corruption. In. Concentrate on Gabriel's support. Out. Let go of Lafayel's.

* * *

Lafayel sent dagger-like energy bolts flying through the air as he fought with another angel. The hot bolts merely grazed his opponent's wing as he darted to the side and fired a counter attack. Growling, Lafayel dropped several meters then launched himself at the other angel. He formed another bolt of energy, but kept it close to his body, wielding it like a staff. The other angel's primitive shield shattered on impact and his head cleaved in two. As the body fell to the ground, Lafayel looked down in disgust, allowing the energy to disperse into the air. "I told you," he said coldly, "don't underestimate me." He grinned. "I suppose you never will again." He closed his eyes and lifted his face upwards, expecting to enjoy the usual thrill that came with victory. None came. His eyes opened with a sneer. Israfel was usually present during his fights; ready to congratulate him on his win once it was over. The two hadn't crossed paths since the last argument nine suns ago. On impulse, Lafayel began to fly toward the nurseries when he felt a familiar aura. 

"Rayyu!" he called, flying to catch his caregiver. "Why are you going to the docks?"

The older angel looked at him in slight surprise. "Israfel did not inform you of his leave?"

Lafayel felt his body turn cold. "No," he said slowly. Israfel told him everything. He was not leaving. "You must be mistaken, Rayyu. Israfel is not _leaving_."

Rayyu stared at him. "I do not make mistakes when it comes to my charges," he said. "Israfel is leaving. He and Gabriel were accepted as apprentices to one of the missionaries of Iblis's fleet. I suspected you were as well, as Israfel would not leave Heaven without you. You will be late if you do not hurry."

"And you? You are taking your time." Lafayel fought the dread brewing inside him.

"I merely want to see the fleet take off. I do not need to see the cherubs to know they are leaving. We exchanged farewells earlier today."

At Rayyu's last words, Lafayel shot off towards the docks. _They forgot to tell me_. He repeated, shoving angels out of his way as he sped toward the platforms. _I barely saw any of them for the past few suns; they did not have a chance to tell me. It's my fault. I avoided them._

_But Israfel could have found you_, a tiny voice said._ Israfel always finds you._

Lafayel shook his head to dispel any disturbing thoughts. He had to concentrate on finding Israfel. He arrived at the edge of the platform as Iblis rose into the last ship. _Please, please wait_. He begged as he cursed the fact that he had to land and walk. He only dared to shove cherubs out of his way as he inched through the crowd. The Commander disappeared inside the ship. _Just a little longer. Keep the door open._ The door closed. _Israfel!_ Expelling hot air, the ship rose to join the others suspended in the air before leading the fleet to the opening in the dome that would allow them to enter into space. Lafayel chased after them even as the other spectators began to fly away. White blinded him as he tried to keep his focus on the gray hulls of the ships against the blackness of space. The dome opened. He could feel the air being sucked out, but continued to pursue the quickly retreating ships. _Don't leave me here! _The last ship exited the colony. The dome closed. _ISRAFEL!!!_ He stopped as the harsh reality hit him. Israfel had left him. He had gone with Gabriel and nobody had told him. Hot tears trailed down his face. For the first time in his life, Lafayel was truly alone.

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
So here we are, 24 days and over 200 spider solitaire games later. I have a legitimate excuse for being late, I swear. First off, let me say that I was away with no Internet access whatsoever on my scheduled posting date. I had hoped to find some kind of free wireless service, but no such luck. I _did_ consider posting early, but then RCN died on me and I had no Internet at home for two days before I left. It was bad. Bad as in having-to-go-to-a-friend's-house-to-register-for-SATs bad. I swear, I've been writing so much this weekend I want to hurt something. There hasn't been one day since Friday that I haven't typed at least 500 words. Yeah. A lot of writing. Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter(s) and a belated Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Happy Kwanza, and early Happy New Year to you all.

Allusions and Explanations:  
Nurses: Caretakers for the meliads and sprouts. They are one of the lower ranking angels. Read chapter 1 again for more info on what they do.

Sun: A day.

Moon: A month, though not necessarily 30 days. Keep in mind that wherever Heaven is, the days and months may vary, depending on the positioning of their dead planet to the sun and the moon.

Nirvana: The Buddhist place of enlightenment. From now on, it will be the name of the angels' dead planet.

Abraham: The father of Israel. Many thanks to RumorUnderOath for telling me. Once again, I just needed a biblical name and my literature teacher briefly mentioned him when we were reading Song of Solomon by Tony Morrison.

_Posted: 28 December 2006  
__Next Post: 15 January 2007_


	5. The Messenger

Once upon a time  
Sometimes I wish that I could rhyme  
Unfortunately, I'm not so gifted  
Just strange and sad, and thoroughly twisted  
A mediocre writer of fan fiction  
I only have one consolation  
These characters, which shimmer and shine  
Most of which are neither yours nor mine

The god of the colony appoints a main commander to each missionary fleet to oversee the missions. Most fleets follow the basic social hierarchy of the colony with slight variations, but the system of challenging other angels for positions remains absolute. However, because the fleets do not carry meliads within the ships, challenges are more commonly initiated with a battle of wits or intimidation and rarely end in death. This is less so for newly recruited missionaries that have yet to adapt to the new system of the fleet. Missions usually last hundreds of years and the fleets only return to restock on supplies and recruit apprentices. The main commander is also required to report to the god with an update on the status of the mission as well as introduce the investigated area's resources. These are often exotic foods or technological advancements. The missions are essential for the colony's diet variability as well as its military and first wall of defense.

Fallen  
Chapter 5  
The Messenger  
By Illusion

Gabriel descended to the dark cave where his target lay sleeping. The man would have to be drugged to believe that he was still dreaming and therefore preventing any aggressive behavior. Carefully, he drugged the woman beside the man to prevent her from waking, then proceeded to light hypnosis incense under his target's nose. He woke the man with a gradual increase in heat and light so as to appear what humans believed was holy. The man shielded his eyes as he slowly adjusted to Gabriel's glowing body. "My God," he whispered in awe, sitting up quickly. "God has sent an angel to me."

"My name is Gabriel," he carefully used a sliver of power to make his voice echo. "Allah hath given me a message to bestow upon the one called Muhammad."

* * *

"Did you deliver the message?" 

The missionary bowed. "Yes sir. Muhammad believes himself a messenger of Allah."

The commander stared at his underling in slight confusion. "'Messenger of Allah'?"

"I made the mistake of mentioning your name instead of 'God'," Gabriel explained.

Allah's eyes narrowed slightly at the slip. "Anything else?"

"No sir. I delivered the rest of the message as instructed. The following slaughter should—"

"Gabriel," Allah's voice sliced through the air. "You are fortunate that I am not the one in charge of dealing your punishment. However, I expect you to receive the proper discipline before you report back to me. Is that clear?"

Gabriel bowed his head. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

* * *

Every high-ranking official was known for his brutality in some way. An advisor at the colony by the name of Joshua possessed the ability to create tiny hooks of pure energy, which he used to slowly pull the nails off those foolish enough to oppose him. The hooks could also be further split to form red-hot splinters that slid into the tender flesh underneath the nails. Another angel, a commander known as Shu, was infamous for breaking the minds of his soldiers so that they became the perfect minions. Each one lost his personality when sent on a mission and most never regained it. They became living dolls that Abraham considered easily replaceable. Azrael himself had been dubbed the Angel of Death in his younger days as a commander. Cold and calculating, he also possessed a tremendous amount of power, which he injected into the bodies of his opponents until their individual cells burst from the supplementary energy. It was by using this specialty that he was able to acquire his position as a god. The tiny needles of energy were small enough to penetrate the membranes of individual cells and impossible to defend against. With every rise in rank, each angel grew more terrifying. 

Iblis, head commander of the fleet, was no exception. He was notorious for using slow, silent, but painful tactics to finish his adversaries. The most feared was when he used a similar tactic to Azrael's signature technique. He leaked energy into his enemy's liver where it killed the area that produced blood platelets while smaller globs attacked the platelets in the bloodstream. It was then that the offender only had to be bruised to bleed to death. It was with a similar fate in mind that Gabriel strode down the cold hallway that led to Iblis's quarters.

His superior was meditating in the center of the room on his feathers. He cracked an eye open as Gabriel bowed before him, waiting. "Why doth thee come to me?"

"Allah hath sent me," Gabriel answered.

"Thy tongue is not accustomed to formal speech," Iblis observed, opening his eyes fully. "What business does a missionary seek with me?"

"Punishment, sir."

"Did it end with failure or success?"

"Success, sir."

"Any blunders?"

"Just one, sir. I failed to remember my target believed gods were nameless. I gave my commander's name, which he believes may be taken as an offense to Lord Azrael's claim to Heaven."

Iblis digested the information quietly. "Offending any god of any colony is a sin, and yet you remained ignorant. How is that?"

Gabriel remained silent.

"Gabriel, recently promoted to rank of messenger missionary by defeating Jacob," the commander recited from memory, recalling an earlier report. "First mission: convince a human to begin a new religion in order to bring psychics out of hiding and reinforce Heaven's food supply." He paused for a moment. "Your first mission."

"Yes, sir. It was."

"Very well." Iblis allowed his eyelids to droop lazily. "You may go."

At this, Gabriel jerked his head up sharply. "But sir, it being my first mission does not qualify as an excuse for my slip of tongue," he protested, shocked at the head commander's leniency.

An eyebrow twitched and a smile tugged slightly at the older angel's lips, the shock of witnessing a superior show signs of amusement enough to make Gabriel believe he would face a far more serious punishment than he expected. "Your survival instinct seems to be lacking," Iblis almost chuckled. "You have been pardoned from a small error and yet you insist on retribution. How is this so?"

"It has always been this way with angels, sir," Gabriel answered, wary of his words.

Iblis remained silent. Gabriel dared to flit his eyes to his superior's stoic face. "Perhaps," the commander finally said. Another tense silence descended upon the two, Iblis lost in his own thoughts and Gabriel stamping down the curiosity that welled within him. Finally, Iblis sighed and returned to meditating. Gabriel took this as a dismissal and bowed low before rising. "Gabriel." The quiet voice murmured, drawing him towards the other angel. Hands rose to rest against his cheek and throat gently. He flinched ever so slightly. Warmth radiated from Iblis's hands and spread through his skin. "You were dangled by your throat," Iblis said. "If you are to make such an error again, I won't let you escape with only bruises. You are dismissed."

Gabriel furrowed his brow in slight confusion before bowing once again and exiting the room. As he made his way down the metal halls he noticed his left cheek seemed darker. He paused to inspect himself more closely and found the flesh to be swollen and five small bruises also forming around where Iblis's fingers had made contact with the skin, though he felt no pain as he prodded at his injuries. Amazed, he wove his way back to the barracks. Gabriel and Israfel had moved through the ranks quickly during their time as missionaries. In the beginning, it was difficult with Israfel's gentle nature attracting unwanted attention from other apprentices. He killed them all and cried. After proving their strength despite Israfel's handicap, the others had left them alone. Gabriel settled into his own nest of feathers as Israfel beside him reached out to heal him. _I've found someone great_, he thought as his wounds were diminished. _An angel with great power and a soft heart; you are not alone. Even with a kind heart, you can still achieve greatness.

* * *

_

"This is my pillar."

Lafayel glanced up from his tray. "Plenty enough room for the two of us," he replied.

"I was here first," the angel said. "If you don't want to die, pay tribute. Give me your meat."

Lafayel glared at his aggressor. "If you truly desired meat," he said slowly, "you would have possessed the foresight to obtain it before choosing a pillar to eat."

The other angel's aura turned cold and flared slightly. "I care not for meat unless it is brought to me, but this is my territory."

Lafayel expanded his aura in response, his body turning hot in anger. "Thy territory is shrinking."

The tension in the air thickened as the two angels stared each other down, evaluating each other's strength by probing each other's auras. When the other angel refused to back down, Lafayel condensed his energy slightly and jabbed his opponent with his aura. He jumped backwards off the pillar as soon as the angel lunged forward, murder gleaming in his eyes. They chased each other around the pillar, Lafayel dodging the energy bolts, and attracting the attention of a few cherubs.

"Thy combat style is akin to that of a cherub's," he mocked when a bolt grazed his hair, undoing his braid. He grinned as the other angel's face began to show signs of anger. _Goad your opponent. Anger is a weakness_, Gabriel's voice echoed in his memory. "Careless and random."

"Thou dost not possess an impressive style as well," his opponent retorted, letting a ribbon of energy loose. Lafayel ducked underneath and weaved through the loops of energy until the two angels were face to face. Grinning wickedly, he let his tray drop as he pushed both hands against his opponent's chest and shoved him against a pillar while injecting huge amounts of concentrated energy into his vital organs. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air as the angel's innards burned.

Lafayel let the body drop. His victory established, he returned to his perch and began to eat the abandoned meal. Let the scavengers pick up the meat he dropped; nobody would challenge him for the remainder of the sun. Halfway through a fruit, he sensed the presence of another powerful angel and bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"State thy name and position."

"I am merely a cherub seeking apprenticeship," he said, keeping his head bowed and lowering his aura slightly.

The other angel remained silent for a moment as if contemplating something. "Apprenticeship under what position?" he finally asked.

"Missionary."

"Will a guardian do?"

Returning missions were few and far between. No fleet had docked since Iblis took his leave several decades ago and Lafayel was growing impatient. Almost 200 years old, he still maintained the position of a cherub despite his independence from Rayyu. The rank of a guardian and missionary do not differ drastically and can still challenge a member of the other branch. He raised his face and aimed his gaze directly below his superior's. "Yes, master."

* * *

Rayyu remained silent as Lafayel explained the details in his small room. "You have lived a carefree life, Lafayel," he said when the cherub finished. "Do you truly believe you are ready for apprenticeship? Who is your master?" 

"Uranus. He holds a middle rank position as a guardian and his most recent apprentice died three moons ago."

_Died? _"What do you mean, 'died'? Were those his exact words?"

Lafayel nodded, confused.

Rayyu narrowed his eyes at the confirmation. "No," he said firmly. "Withdraw from the apprenticeship."

"What!" Lafayel half shouted. "This is the first time a guardian has approached me! If I don't accept, I may remain a cherub for the rest of my life! I'm almost 2 centuries old and still a cherub!"

"Approach the guardians on your own, then," Rayyu snapped back. "Sometimes, you have to take the initiative. Gabriel did not wait for a missionary to notice him."

"I am not Gabriel!"

Rayyu's expression didn't change at the outburst. "No, you're not," he said. His voice wavered on the border between quiet and normal volume but the words screamed. "You are rash and impulsive, don't consider the consequences of your actions, and have not made any steps to achieving success in your life. You are a cherub because you have not tried to find your own master, always waiting for someone else to do the work. You do not have the qualities that make Gabriel a strong angel."

"Israfel…." He wanted to beat himself for trying to divert the blame.

"Israfel held himself back for you." Rayyu's voice was cold even as he praised the other angel. "He has more power and potential than even Gabriel. He held himself back."

Anger and hatred burned within him and without thinking, he said, "You hate us because we killed Calandra. We're the products of his death and Gabriel is the product of the bond you shared."

Silence hung thick in the air.

"I will not have you apprentice under Uranus."

Lafayel slid the door open and dropped out of sight.

Rayyu stood staring at the open door where the last of his cherubs disappeared. _It is an angel's duty to tell his potential apprentice how his past apprentice lost his life. Uranus is hiding something. I just wanted to ensure your safety. If you are to leave me, I want to know it would be beneficial to you._ He sighed and his entire body sagged. _I want all my cherubs—my Eros—to be happy._

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Allusions and Explanations:  
Gabriel: Known as Jibril in Islamic culture. He is the messenger.

Allah: Known as God in Islamic culture.

Joshua: Another biblical figure that I know almost nothing about. I needed a name and remembered the song "Joshua At the Battle of Jericho" and figured, what the heck.

Shu: The Egyptian God of air. He separates the earth and sky because he doesn't like the fact that his son and daughter are sleeping with each other. Sorry to impose my opinion here, but incest isn't my thing. I love the ancient Egyptians. I really do.

Uranus: Pronounced YER-ah-nus. He is the Ancient Greeks' sky, first husband of Gaia (earth), and father of the Titans, Cyclopes, and Hundred-Arms.

_Posted: 11 September 2006  
__Reposted: 15 January 2007  
__Next Post: 5 February 2007  
__Added Scenes: 5 February 2007  
__Next Post: 26 February 2007 or 18 March 2007 depending on how the other story goes_


	6. Tainted

Joy to the world, the chapter has come  
Let patience receive her praise  
Readers, reviewers, all enjoy the new installment  
And though I don't own JO  
Only books and ideas and a computer  
I am proud to present to you chapter six

Many questions have been raised about the psychology of angels. Studies have shown that angelic society believes emotions to be a great weakness and hindrance to the constant struggle for power. However, the question as to whether angels are able to strip themselves of emotion completely or not has been raised and if so, how? If not, as is the more popular opinion, how do these creatures survive? Every animal may be able to keep emotions bottled up inside for a certain amount of time, but angels, with their extended life spans seem to have a boundless tolerance to emotional breakdowns. It is likely that they deal with their emotional problems individually and because they live longer have a higher tolerance to long-term problems such as stress and tension. More romantic theorists have suggested that there are in fact many emotionally illicit relationships that are kept from society. However, this is difficult to prove, as no rituals celebrating relationships, such as marriage, exist. It is also questioned as to whether or not it is even possible for angels to be involved with each other romantically as they are all male and have no pheromones or other hormones to attract each other.

Fallen  
Chapter 6  
Tainted  
By Illusion

Israfel kneeled beside his opponent and began to heal the others' wounds.

"I don't need your help," Pilate snapped, shoving Israfel's hands away. "I can heal myself."

"You should be grateful for Israfel's kindness," another angel said icily, glaring down at him in vague distaste. "Few angels would heal their opponents after gaining the desired position."

"Michael." Israfel's voice was soft. Michael sniffed slightly then walked away. "Thank you for the victory," the newly promoted missionary said to Pilate before standing and following behind the other angel.

Pilate glared at the two figures until they flew out of sight. He had been in the fleet for thousands of years and had been content to remain in the rank he had just been demoted from. He growled. The fleet's policies were changing, and his humiliation was building.

* * *

"Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti quia peccavi nimis. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. Kyrie eleison." 

"Kyrie eleison," the congregation repeated.

As the last murmur faded, Gabriel cast a quick freezing spell over the church as he passed through its doors. He passed the still priest and approached the altar.

"My God," a voice murmured and he slowly turned. A young man stared at him in shock and wonder. "An angel."

The missionary stared back at the human, the sunlight forming a halo around his white-clad form. His green eyes regarded the young man unblinkingly as he waited for him to make a move. He had strict orders to not allow humans to know of his presence and to just retrieve supplies.

"My God," the human repeated. "Do I dream?"

_Ah_. Realization dawned on the confused angel, though he was careful not to show it. _A psychic_. He had heard of these unique breed of humans but had never encountered one before. He had been told most were concentrated in what the humans called the Far Eastern side of the world. "What thou seest is not a dream, but a vision." Gabriel applied the slightest bit of magic for his smooth voice to echo in the otherwise silent church.

"God has sent an angel?"

"The angel Gabriel," he tipped his head forward slightly. Angels do not bow to lesser beings. Plans of ways to rid himself of the human without killing the psychic whirled through his mind. "Plays the messenger," he finished.

The human scrambled to bow to the angel. With the man's head bowed, Gabriel took the opportunity to glance at the contents of the altar and suppressed his disgruntlement at the plain wine and bread. He turned back to the groveling psychic. "There are others like you—others who possess the gift of visions," he said. Psychics were nuisances for the angels. They were somehow more tolerant of their magic and those who fought the fleet could severely injure a lower ranked missionary. If he could get this psychic to gather the others in one place, they would be easier to kill. "Seek them out. Those with the gift are God's servants."

"Yes, my Lord," the man said, his forehead still pressed to the floor.

"You must not allow others without the gift of sight to know of your holy quest."

"Yes."

A slight rustle, then the sound of voices permeated the man's senses. He looked up to see the priest looking at him strangely and, flushing slightly, he returned to his place in the crowd, determined to do God's bidding.

* * *

Uranus watched in pride as his apprentice wiped his hands clean on the white cloth of his opponent's robes. This one was neither the most intelligent nor the most powerful of his students, but he proved obedient, driven by anger. If he could, Uranus would have smiled. Lafayel was the perfect guardian. "Come here." 

The younger angel approached him warily. He was the first not to be foolish enough to challenge his master and knew to fear him appropriately. However, Uranus was sensing the growing impatience within his apprentice and knew he would have to be rid of the angel soon.

* * *

He slid the door closed and crouched in his nest, folding his wings in a cocoon around his body. His feathers lay scattered around the otherwise Spartan room. Slowly, gingerly, he brought his bloodied hands to his face, watching the liquid continue to pulse out of where he once had nails. The sharp tearing pain had dwindled to a dull ache with every pulse of blood. Several drops slid down his hands and fell to the floor, splattering the feathers and staining the white with copper-red spots. 

Trembling hands reached for a single blood-dotted feather and lifted it. The other hand plucked a loose feather from his wing and compared the two. Gray. The new one was gray. Tainted. Ugly. Unwanted. Several soft bristles brushed against the tender bloodied skin of his fingertip and he hissed, tightening his grip on his feathers. His fingers only stung more.

He dropped the feathers and brought his hands back toward his face again. The clotted blood had been torn away when he dropped the gray feather and fresh blood pulsed out the re-opened wound. He licked it and hissed in pain. He couldn't risk puncturing his remaining skin cells by gathering energy to heal the wounds. Healing would only bring an irresistible itch and the beginning of his master's vicious cycle again. He shuddered and curled his body tighter, careful to keep anything from touching his fingers. A few tears squeezed out from his eyelids at the combination of emotional and physical pain.

His nest was white with red-speckled feathers and blotches of darkening gray.

* * *

"Something is troubling you. Your aura is unstable." 

Israfel opened his eyes and tilted his head to see his comrade's face. "Michael."

The other missionary seated himself next to the four-winged angel and closed his eyes. "If my instincts have not weathered over the centuries, I believe you are being overly anxious about Gabriel again."

"I have not seen him in a long time," Israfel sighed. "He has been my companion since birth. I am not accustomed to his absence for extended periods of time," he admitted.

The corner of Michael's lips twitched ever so slightly. "You and Gabriel share an unusual relationship. I do not know of any other angel who would be so willing to be concerned for another."

"Iblis is."

"Iblis is concerned for the fleet, not any one specific angel," he pointed out.

Israfel was silent. "Do you…" he started slowly then paused to take a deep breath. "Do you believe that perhaps… perhaps I am a burden to Jibril and his ascent in power?" He winced slightly when Michael smacked him.

"Fool," the other angel scolded harshly. "The pace at which Gabriel goes by is the pace he sets for himself. You are not forcing him to drag you behind him."

"If I was not here he would not feel the need to protect me," Israfel replied.

Michael stared at the depressed angel beside him. _But he is not protecting you. Your power exceeds his by far._

* * *

"I received your report on the lack of offerings the humans are leaving." 

Gabriel nodded and allowed the commander to approach the viewing platform where he stood staring at the vast space outside the fleet.

"And this gathering of psychics?"

"I believe they will be easier to eliminate if gathered in a single location."

The commander remained silent as he considered Gabriel's actions. "You have adjusted to life here well."

"It is less…" he paused, searching for a word.

"Competitive?" Iblis suggested. The missionary nodded.

"You lead your subordinates well," Gabriel said. "It is very different than in Heaven. There are times that I wonder why you do not challenge Azrael." For the past four hundred years he had witnessed the differences in the fleet's social policies. Though officers and ranks were still determined by challenges of power, they were no longer required to fight to the death and the angels were allowed—no, encouraged—to display emotion within certain designated areas and under extreme cases of stress. He felt freer than he ever had in Heaven. _This way of life is better_.

"It is different, yes," he agreed, "but it is not necessarily better." He smiled as though Gabriel had voiced his thoughts out loud. "You are still young. You do not understand that a sudden change to this," he nodded his head toward the main body of the fleet, "from the traditional government would upset many older and powerful angels. It has taken many centuries and many challenges for this fleet to change and even now those ranked below me question my authority. As for challenging Azrael…" he turned his head toward Heaven, several galaxies away. "Azrael is a much stronger angel than I, in both power and leadership," he murmured. "I have no intention of becoming God."

Gabriel peered into his superior's face. "You lie," he said. "Every time you look towards Heaven I see it: your longing. You know you are as capable a leader as he and yet you do not challenge him. The angels would be happier under your reign."

Iblis stared at the missionary and the hair along Gabriel's body rose slightly. "A God bears the greatest responsibility imaginable," he explained. "He can not worry himself about his cherubs' happiness when he has to insure their survival. What Heaven needs is a strong leader, not a kind one."

Gabriel remained silent for a moment. "Why do you defend him?"

"Why do you protect Israfel?"

"He is my cherub."

"Then you should know my answer."

* * *

He was glad to be rid of the fleet for a few years; the other angels made him sick. Pilate boarded the small messenger pod and bound himself to the central control seat, waiting for the dome to open into empty space. When the once-a-decade report was due he seized the chance to play the messenger and escape from the weakening fleet. 

When Iblis had first assumed leadership of the fleet after Lucifer had been cast out of Heaven as a shaytan, he initially had the full support of every angel. His cold aura radiated raw and tightly controlled power, which demanded the immediate respect of every angle he came in contact with. However, the past few centuries had made light of the ice angel's growing weakness.

_Lucifer was a great angel_. Pilate thought bitterly, even as he suppressed a shudder at the memory of how the previous head commander governed the fleet. He forced images of how his previous apprentice had his tongue torn out and left to bleed to death for just letting a few miniscule details escape him during the mission. He was weak and careless. Unfit to belong in such an elite fleet. _Lucifer was great. He had no use for petty _emotions_ or _morals_ that humans dream up. No, his priority was the fleet's efficiency, not the missionaries' happiness. It is unimportant. Procula is unimportant_….

Pilate readied the report ship for take off. Yes, he would report the weakening of the fleet's social order. He glanced at the viewing platform where a pair of angels still stood. The social order was truly weakening.

The gravity was shut down and the dome opened. Within minutes the report ship had disappeared from view.

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Allusions and Explanations:  
Pilate: He was the Roman governor who ordered the crucifixion of Jesus.

Michael: One of the archangels in Islamic beliefs. He is the protector. (Thanks to neurofeces for telling me this back when I posted the story in 2005)

The Latin: I'm not sure of the accuracy of the translation, but what I have is, "I confess to God almighty that I have sinned. Through my fault. Through my most grievous fault. Lord have mercy." If anybody has a better translation, please tell me.

Psychics: At this point in time, only the Darklore and Arayashiki exist, but Wiz-dom is starting to form. However, my theory is that Darklore stay more in touch with their animal side than their human side, so angels, who only interact with humans because they worship them, don't know of the Darklore. Thus, they believe that psychics (the Arayashiki) are concentrated in the Far East.

Lucifer: The fallen angel who became Satan in Christianity.

Procula: Pilate's wife.

_Posted: 30 April 2007  
Reposted: 21 May 2007  
Next Post: 11 June 2007_


	7. Heavenly Kingdom

Out of curiousity... are copyright laws even that strongly enforced? My teachers give me photocopied things that say "Distribution of copies strictly prohibited" all the time. Also, doesn't the site's name, being **_FAN_** Fiction pretty much serve as a disclaimer for all stories published here? Furthermore, why would the original author even bother posting something here if he/she is the owner anyway? Join me on my disclaimer boycott to force common sense into the heads of lawyers! Actually, common sense is rather rare, so that's probably a very dangerous decision... So yeah, I don't own the characters. Don't sue me, as I really need the money for my college tuition and those money-sucking College Board vampires.

Though the majority of disputes are usually settled locally, the god and his advisors deal with large disputes that may concern the entire angelic race or threaten the leadership of Heaven. The god summons the offender to appear before his Council of Advisors to testify to his innocence or explain his actions. Angelic judgment is as harsh as Nature's, with only three outcomes: pardon, exile, or death. Of the three, exile is the most common, death the second, and pardon an extremely rare event. However, the methods by which exile is carried out often results in death and thus, is as dreaded by those being judged. It is even possible that death is the most preferable of the three choices. Pardon is so rare that the summoning is often thought of as an immediate execution. However, exile strips an angel of his dignity and the newly dubbed shaytan is cast into space without supplies. Though they are usually cast off ships nearby planets, few shaytan actually survive long enough to retain some thread of life by the time they arrive on the surface of the planet. Even if they survive to that extent, they are not necessarily released near hospitable planets and some die even after surviving their fall. Thus it is not difficult to understand why most angels awaiting judgment prefer to be sentenced with death with little dignity as opposed to one with dishonor.

Fallen  
Chapter 7  
Heavenly Kingdom  
By Illusion

"Iblis, thou art summoned by the god, Azrael, to appear before the Council of Advisors with your subordinate, the missionary Gabriel."

The commander faced the entourage of guardians that had arrived from Heaven.

"What issue has called for a summoning?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"The report submitted to the Lord disturbed members of the Council," the leader of the guardians answered. "Some respected members believe thy methods questionable in strength and efficiency, especially with the growing lack of supplies returning to the colony."

"And what of my subordinate?"

"According to the report, the missionary Gabriel substituted another angel's name in the place of the god's," the angel recited.

Iblis's aura turned icy. He could sense some of the lower angels shrinking their auras to avoid the cold. "Very well. I shall summon the missionary Gabriel and arrive at your ship shortly."

The guardian nodded curtly before taking off towards his ship. A flutter of white feathers followed after him as his entourage rose after him. Iblis's eyes narrowed into slits as he walked away from the docking platform.

"What are Gabriel's missions for the next hundred years?" he asked Gabriel's direct superior, a low-ranking commander.

Thor frowned as he tried to remember. "Only one to the area where the humans call the New World."

"Reassign that mission to another," Iblis ordered.

"Yes, sir."

Iblis swept away from the officer to search for the missionary. He stayed grounded throughout his search and kept his aura at a medium size, hoping to keep a low profile. As he approached the viewing platform, two white figures came into view. A bluish tint from the blue planet outside the large window of the platform made the white cloth glow slightly as Iblis approached.

* * *

"I thought you would come here," Michael said as he felt Gabriel approaching. "You take an interest in astronomy?" 

"Not particularly," Gabriel answered as he landed next to other angel. "The planet is just so round compared to Heaven."

"Mm."

"You have befriended Israfel."

"I have," Michael said. "He is the first to over look this." He gestured to his auburn hair.

"Israfel is a very accepting angel." It was a meaningless sentence. Everybody who came in contact with the gentle hearted missionary knew of his overly trusting nature just by a brush of his aura, but it filled the uncomfortable silence.

"He has stopped referring to you as Jibril."

"It is inappropriate now that we are no longer cherubs."

"He feels he is holding you back from your goals."

"Preposterous." Gabriel stared out at the planet suspended in black nothingness. "I have no ultimate goal."

"And thus he feels guilty," Michael said. He watched the clouds swirl in the planet's atmosphere, random, shapeless strings of fluffy white spinning in eternal spirals of confusion. How fitting. They almost resembled Gabriel and Israfel's thoughts. He suppressed a bitter smile.

"Why?"

"That is something you must discuss with him."

"I cannot face him. He will follow me. He must make his own path to follow."

"He wants your guidance."

"For what?" Gabriel felt as though something within him was sinking. "I have nothing to offer him. He has made me to be something I am not. I am just another angel."

"In his eyes, you are his mentor." Michael paused. "You have always been with him, have you not?"

"Always."

"Then you can understand why he feels as he does."

He suppressed the urge to close his eyes. "I can't… allow him to see me as I am. No goals, no meaning. I don't want him to see how hollow I actually am. I see how the humans live on my missions and all I can think of is how he would fit in there. Where one is free to live and not merely exist."

He turned to the auburn haired angel and the two made eye contact for the first time and a moment of understanding passed between them.

"Gabriel."

The connection broke as both glanced at their commander. "Sir." They bowed.

"Gabriel, you have been summoned to Heaven." The missionary's face remained stoic. "We have been ordered to leave immediately."

Gabriel glanced at Michael.

_I will stay by Israfel._

_Thank you. _"Yes, sir."

* * *

The door of the ship opened and Gabriel dropped out of the open hatch after Iblis. He instantly felt thousands of eyes fixing on him and fought to keep his aura steady. Never before had so many angels of various levels of society judged him at once. _Is Rayyu here? Lafayel?_

The angels flanking his sides stopped, as did Iblis and his escorts. Azrael rose from his place on the docking platform to meet with them, extending all six of his large wings in flight. Piercing silver eyes remained stoic and pale golden hair trailed behind him in a loose ponytail. Once level with them, he remained suspended in the air with powerful sweeps of his wings. His aura, burning hot, expanded and seared through Gabriel's body, yet he could feel that the god kept the most of his power within himself.

Iblis approached the god as he had done centuries before: lowered aura, head bowed, hand over his heart. Azrael regarded the commander for a moment before turning. Iblis remained still before his torso bent into a stiff bow. He pushed himself back to his escorts and together with them, dropped down to the platform. Gabriel and the angels around him followed silently and the crowd below cleared a space for them to land. Iblis lead them towards the barracks as angels shrank away from him. He walked with light but proud steps, head held high, ignoring his public disgrace.

Gabriel focused on his commander's proud back, unwilling to see the faces of the angels observing him as he made his way towards the barracks. He heard shuffling as Azrael and his advisors landed and could almost feel the respect emanating for the god as opposed to the discord toward his rejected commander.

He followed behind Iblis silently, even as the commander entered an unfamiliar section of the barracks. The doors were placed in larger intervals and fewer feathers scattered the floor of the corridor. His nest was next to Iblis's and was slightly smaller than the standard size despite the larger volume it could have occupied due to the smaller number of nests to volume ratio.

"Thou art to reside here until thy sentence," one of the guardians informed him. "Immediate attendance is expected when the Council summons thee, but until that time comes, Heaven's grounds are open thee."

"I understand."

The guardian nodded once before turning and dropping out the door. The others followed him, opening their wings to catch the ever-present current and gliding away. Gabriel waited until they were out of eyesight before making his way to Iblis's nest. "Commander?"

A sudden chill passed through him when he lighted at the edge of the nest. He shivered violently and grabbed the edge of the doorframe to keep from falling. "Ah, Gabriel." Iblis's voice was casual as he sat facing the inner wall of his barrack. "Reacquaint yourself with the colony. You will have little opportunity to do so once the Council summons us."

Gabriel, nodded stiffly, but his fingers remained latched to the doorframe. _Let go_, he commanded them as the cold seeped into his core. Slowly, laboriously, he turned his head to look down at the almost bare floor of the corridor. His wings remained furled and his fingers frozen at the edge. For the first time since being a cherub, he was afraid to let go and fall. _Let go. Spread your wings, and the current will bring you back up. The freefall lasts only for a moment. Let go._ His body was rigid and his joints began to ache with his awkward position, the sudden terror, and the awful, awful cold, yet he remained paralyzed and he knew he would die.

"Gabriel."

_Let go. Let go! LET GO!_ He wrenched himself away from the nest and felt himself enter into freefall. He twisted himself around and forced his wings to open. The steady gust of wind caught his body and lifted him up and away from the open doorway. Gabriel steadied himself and hugged his arms to his body, looking back at the dark square. He curled more into himself. Only his wings remained extended, keeping him from falling. He shuddered as the cold ebbed away leaving a shadowed frost.

* * *

He stared. Was the angel before him truly there, or was he simply a hallucination? His hand slid off 36's trunk in shock. "Gabriel." 

The angel nodded at his name. His robes were slightly more elaborate, his hair down, and his aura more corrupted with time, but it was the same cherub that he and Calandra had hatched centuries ago. "I wanted to see the meliads," he said quietly.

36 nudged her branches against Rayyu. _Speak with him._

"You… accompanied Iblis?"

"Yes. We await the Council's summoning." He approached the couple and began to stroke 36's branches. Her leaves rustled in her ancient whisper. "I wish I could understand what the meliads say," he said. "I believe they hold much wisdom."

"They do." 36 curled one of her soft branches around the missionary's hand. A memory of a meliad's branch encircling Gabriel's small cherub's hand flashed through Rayyu's mind. "Their life spans are generally longer than ours. They have gathered much wisdom that has been passed down from mother to daughter."

"Is that why you decided to remain a nurse?"

Several centuries ago, the reminder of his low position in the hierarchy would have insulted Rayyu. Instead he merely made a soft noise of agreement. He was tired. And old. So old.

_Speak with thy cherub_, 36 insisted. _Can those eyes not see his yearning for reconcilement? Both have been wounded, Rayyu, and the time to heal has come. Speak with thy cherub._

"What did she say?"

"She approves of my choice." A rustle of leaves. "You await the Council?"

"Yes."

Rayyu paused. "And… is Israfel well?"

"He is safe," Gabriel replied. "He and I have advanced to the highest missionary positions. One more victory and he will be a commander."

"He is powerful."

"Perhaps…" Gabriel glanced around the nursery.

"There are only meliads here, and they keep our secrets for us," Rayyu assured him.

The missionary nodded, though he remained apprehensive. "Israfel may be God one day," he whispered. "I cannot reach the expectations you set for us, but Israfel can. He is powerful and his life is not threatened."

"If you return to the fleet…" he hesitated. "Vow that if you should return to the fleet, you will make Israfel God."

"I shall try."

"Do not try. Vow to me."

Gabriel's green eyes bore into Rayyu's purple ones. "I vow that if I should ever return to Iblis's fleet, I will make Israfel God of Heaven and all its colonies."

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Allusions and Explanations:  
Thor: He's the Norse Thunder god. Don't ask. It was the first name I thought of.

36: She's mentioned in chapter 1 and makes an appearance in chapter 2. As you can see from this scene, she's one of the meliads Rayyu tends to and seems to be his favorite.

Rayyu understands what 36 is saying mainly because he works with meliads every day. It's only natural that he would learn their language.

_Posted: 11 June 2007  
Next Post: 2 July 2007_


	8. Shaytan

We're walking in the air  
We're floating in the moonlit sky  
The people far below are sleeping as I write

I'm holding very tight  
I'm keeping all the angels from you  
I'm finding they're not mine, so I beg you not to sue

_**WARNING:**_ This chapter contains watered down sexual content. Think restaurant water.

Where does all the angels' violent rage come from? Some theorists believe it may be an outlet for their emotional and sexual drive. Evolution has not deprived angels of their sexual organs despite the fact that myriads are unable to partake in sexual intercourse. The angels, with no sexual outlet but centuries of built up sexual drive, may use violence as a means of relieving their frustration. It is believed violence may be the only means they have to keeping some sense of sanity after the buildup of emotional and sexual frustration.

However, violence is a poor long-time substitute. Some angels go insane after several thousand years, but there are a select few that seem to retain control of their minds. Curiously enough, the majority of these select angels are shaytan, almost all of which retain their sanity. Due to these statistics, many theorize that once relieved of the angelic policy of no emotions, the shaytan are able to live freer lives, which brings into question: What of the angels still accepted in society?

It seems plausible that illicit relationships exist between angels, but are kept carefully hidden, as discovery will result in either exile or execution. Some shaytans are the results of angels whose emotional relationship was discovered, with one being executed and the other condemned to live in shaytanism with the burden of his partner's death. This then raises the debate of whether or not angelic relationships are based on emotional or sexual drive. Though some theorists believe it is driven by lust and consists mainly of sexual intercourse, others believe these relationships evolve from a need to feel.

Theorist Yamatani Noriko is a strong advocate for emotional relationships between angels. "Angels are always seeking to fill an emotional hole," Yamatani argues. "The majority of the population often tries to fill it through violence and sex, but like humans, they still feel that emptiness. Studies have also shown that males of most species are more emotionally vulnerable than females and thus showing more genuine love. In the case of angels, one must factor out the hormones to an extent due to the lack of estrogen-testosterone chemistry. If anything, I believe that a relationship between two angels involves more genuine love and emotion than the average human couple."

Fallen  
Chapter 8  
Shaytan  
By Illusion

He was searching for Lafayel when a pair of guardians approached him with the Council's summoning. Knowing better than to defy the Council, he had followed them to the Old Colony. Here, the columns were gilded with metals of unknown origins and carved with ancient designs. Gabriel gazed in near awe at the ornate patterns and decorative nuances that so contrasted the modern unblemished angelic architecture.

They approached a stone structure that resembled several human buildings with its grandeur. It was a hall flanked by columns and enclosed in a high arched ceiling decorated with elaborate tessellations. The floor was composed of a single expanse of smooth polished stone. At the end of a hall was a crescent shaped ramp with five thrones placed equally apart. The center throne was the largest and most elaborate, with stone flames extending outward and a pair of armrests lining the seat.

Iblis stood to the side of the room and Gabriel's escorts bowed their heads slightly before taking their leave from the unfamiliar surroundings. Gabriel remained in his place, unsure to approach the commander until Iblis turned his head and nodded once.

As he landed next to him, Iblis bent on one knee and said softly, "Follow my lead." He placed a hand on the floor and as he lifted it, the stone followed. "This is our mother's bone," he explained as he began to mold the rock.

"Our mother?"

"The home planet. The Old Colony is composed mostly of materials from our world." His hands shaped the stone tenderly, almost caressing it. It was hard yet flexible and moved easily.

"How?" Gabriel repeated his superior's actions emptily, then while he injected energy. The older angel stilled his hand.

"Do not force it," he said. "You do not tell the bone to move, you ask it. Persuade it. Remember, it is the Mother's bone. You can not force it."

Gabriel stared at him.

Iblis sighed and released his hand. "Do not bother. It is not something that is easily done by angels today." He returned to his unfinished sculpture.

Gabriel felt himself turn cold and suddenly he wanted to kill this angel that dare jab at his pride. Realizing his thoughts, he willed himself to calm. "I can." Iblis glanced at him. "I can force it."

"It is impossible to force anything." His hands were fluid and coaxing and the stone smoothed into a cylinder. "What you believe is "force" is just amateurish persuasion. When you force something, it is simply of a weaker will or it chooses to cease its resistance." The stone hardened as soon as his hands stopped.

"The interrogation may last long," he said, turning towards Gabriel. "Would you prefer to stand?"

"No," he said quietly.

Iblis nodded and created another simple seat for his subordinate.

Gabriel watched, enchanted by his commander's hands as they guided the hard rock as if it possessed the properties of solid and liquid simultaneously. As Iblis's hands lifted away the stone hardened and he sensed another presence.

Missionary bowed and commander nodded as the advisor entered the hall. He nodded his head at Iblis and glanced briefly at Gabriel before settling in one of the thrones. One by one the members of the Council entered, each acknowledging the other angels before sitting. As the last advisor took his seat, Azrael turned his attention to Iblis and Gabriel.

"Thou, Iblis, hath been summoned to the Council for inefficient government within the fleet granted to thee, inadequate control over the assigned solar system's inhabitants, and corruption of subordinates."

"They are the charges," Iblis answered.

"What say you in defense?" one of the advisors asked.

"I do not have complete control over humans' minds. In the past millennia I have overseen the shipment of resources from my assigned post to Heaven, the planet's ruling species hath made bounds in scientific and technological advancement. The religions we instilled in them have evolved to offer fewer offerings and sacrifices and many have been dubbed heathen. There are more skeptics among the dominant species now and the race as a whole is not as easily manipulated as previous generations."

"Are there not some who still posses this religious zeal of the past?"

"There will always be believers," Iblis replied. "It seems there are more of a fewer intensity during times of peace and fewer believers possessing a passion bordering on obsession during times of hardship."

"Thou hast inflamed wars for our purpose?" An advisor peered at Iblis with piercing gold eyes.

Iblis didn't answer for a moment before admitting, "Yes. I have inflamed battles, massacres, and wars in the name of Heaven and its god."

"The tactic is successful?"

"The fleet acquired enough offerings to feed the entire colony for two months from the Trojan War alone."

"There hath been less human wars as of late," sand another advisor. "There hath also been less resources. More and more angels have found themselves consuming mere meliad fruit than imported foods and some lower angels have been seen picking at the flesh of the deceased."

"I do not find it necessary to begin a war among our chief resources with uncertain outcomes," Iblis replied coolly. "Given the circumstances—"

"You would rather watch your own species face extinction than sacrifice another planet's inhabitants?" the advisor accused.

"Only the strong survive," Azrael warned, staring at the commander. "Watch thy tongue."

Iblis bowed his head.

The interrogation continued addressing the charges sometimes individually, sometimes intertwined together. A member of the Council asked a question, Iblis answered, and then they debated. Gabriel remained silent throughout the process, his back straight and his wings folded harmlessly. His hands rested on his lap as he listened and watched the exchanges between his commander and the Council. Three fourths of a sun had passed when the council turned its attention to the missionary.

"And this is the subordinate that gave another angel's name in place of mine," Azrael said.

"The problem was confronted and dealt with," Iblis answered. "Gabriel hath received due punishment and paid the colony back with his service."

"This would fall under the 'Corruption of Subordinates' charge," one Council member noted.

Azrael stared at Iblis and Gabriel felt that the god did not believe Iblis's words. He had the sudden urge to feel his neck for the false bruises his commander had formed centuries ago but he kept his hands in his lap.

"That may be," the god finally said, "but this very same angel is the one that allowed a new faction of human psychics to gather."

All eyes focused on Gabriel as he tried to recall ever doing so.

"This faction is concentrated in an area the humans call Christendom," an advisor prompted. "They go under the name 'Wiz-dom'."

Gabriel's eyes widened in realization. "That man," he said, remembering the orders he had issued to the human psychic and the story he improvised to support the orders. "I did not believe that man was capable of gathering all the psychics in all of Christendom."

"When they are gathered together they are capable of slaying a missionary."

The reality of his miscalculation began to sink in.

"Fortunately, they still believe angels to be their deities," Iblis said. "As long as missionaries do not attack this faction of psychics and even aids them, they will remain loyal to the angelic race and may even prove useful."

The Council murmured and Azrael waited until each of his advisors turned and gave him a curt nod. "Very well," he said, returning his attention to Gabriel. "The Council chooses to pardon the missionary Gabriel as long as the human faction remains loyal to the angelic race. However, if ever the faction shall slay an angel, the missionary Gabriel is to face exile and disgrace as a shaytan. This is the Council's decision." He then turned to Iblis.

"The Council chooses to strip the angel Iblis of his position as commander of the fleet overseeing the blue planet and banish him from Heaven and all its territories as a shaytan. If sighted in Heaven or any of its territories, all angels are ordered to eliminate the shaytan. He has one sun to leave Heaven's territories. Any angel caught aiding him is also to be banished with the same regulations applying to him as well. This is the Council's decision."

The Council members all rose and launched into the air, each heading to his own destination. Only Iblis and Gabriel remained sitting on their crude seats. Stiffly, Gabriel approached the older angel.

"I expected this," Iblis said quietly, a defeated smile making its way to his face. "It was too soon to change."

"Iblis, I—"

"You should check when your ship returns to the fleet."

Gabriel looked down at the angel who had served as his commander, mentor, and defender. "Yes, sir," he whispered. He launched himself into the air and out of the building, out of the ornate Old Colony, and into the small, Spartan barracks where only a pile of dead feathers awaited him.

* * *

"His aura is similar to yours." 

Iblis turned his head and smiled. "Yes, I know."

"Does he know?"

"He may suspect it," he said, rising as the other angel approached. "I do not want to burden the cherub any more than I have to. He has another cherub he must protect. It is hard enough for him to know his commander is a shaytan." He gazed in the direction Gabriel had flown. "My brother kept his promise."

"Calandra died when he was only a few months old."

"He taught Gabriel how to care for others." Iblis placed a hand on the other angel's arm. "That is all that matters."

Silver eyes gazed regretfully into Iblis's.

"We have one more sun."

Then lips descended on lips in gentle desperation. No words were exchanged, only needy caresses and breathless sighs. Heat, passion, and tenderness engulfed the lovers for the last time and when one awoke, the other was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Allusions and Explanations:  
Old Colony: It's like the "Old City" in Quebec.

Christendom: Europe was called this during the Middle Ages.

_Posted: 2 July 2007  
Next Post: 23 July 2007_


	9. Sire

Oh, _so close_. You were _one_ review short of my set minimum, so no double post. Sorry guys. Maybe I'll make the same offer again next time I have two chapters finished in time, but for now, I'm staying to one chapter every three weeks.

I wanna be the very best  
That no one ever was  
To disclaim is my real test  
To borrow is my cause

The lowest position for an adult angel in the social hierarchy is that of a nurse. The position requires the least amount of power and as a result usually contains the lesser angels. However, due to the common belief that nurses are inferior, nurses are able to get away with certain behaviors that would result in the disgrace of a higher-ranking angel, but only to a certain extent. As a result, nurses tend to have longer life spans than average. Many also learn to speak the same language as the meliads they tend and oftentimes they are asked to oversee the development of cherubs that higher ranked angels hatch. Though considered socially inferior, the nurses form the base of the colony's survival and possess more knowledge than any of the other ranks. It is no surprise then, that some angels choose the path of a nurse despite high power level.

Fallen  
Chapter 9  
Sire  
By Illusion

Since Iblis's disappearance from Heaven, Gabriel spent the majority of his time in the nurseries, wandering from orchard to orchard. He occasionally met with a nurse but avoided contact with other angels. Several meliads acquainted themselves with him and would greet him with outstretched branches.

"When do you return to the fleet?" Rayyu asked when the two stumbled across each other.

"Two suns," Gabriel said.

"Iblis was exiled."

"He fled to Hell, I believe. It is the closest place he is allowed in."

Rayyu stared at Gabriel for a moment. "You were very attached to your commander."

"He was a powerful angel. I admired him greatly."

"Is that all?"

Gabriel looked at the nurse suspiciously. "Iblis was my high commander. That merits the greatest respect and admiration, does it not?"

Rayyu bowed his head. Gabriel was still the more powerful angel and could easily defeat the nurse for simply irritating him.

Still eyeing the other angel suspiciously, Gabriel made his way out of the orchard. He launched into the air and directed himself toward his barracks. Not wanting any contact with other angels, Gabriel spent the next sun brooding in his nest, only emerging five times to feed.

Was what he felt for Iblis truly just admiration and respect? He had never considered otherwise until Rayyu questioned him. In the fleet it was Iblis, the most powerful angel present, who chose to protect and monitor him, a low-level missionary who had sought him for punishment. He had always wondered why the high commander chose to spend his spare time with Gabriel. Was it because he believed the missionary had great potential? Instead of squashing possible threats to his power and authority, the commander strangely encouraged his subordinates to reach their full aptitude. However, if he had taken Gabriel under his wing for that reason it would have been more likely that he would choose Israfel, who possessed a reservoir of untapped power yet still exhibited cases of extreme strength. No, it was something else. Something unique about Gabriel must have caught Iblis's attention.

He caught sight of the feathers he sat on. After Iblis's escape Gabriel had mixed his commander's feathers in with his to make the nest more comfortable. Suddenly he needed to get out. He couldn't think properly. He slid the door to his nest open and peered out. A sixth of a sun has passed since the last meal and most angels would be in their nests. As Gabriel dropped to the floor, wishing to avoid attracting attention, he pondered the areas where he was least likely to meet another angel.

The mess hall? Angels dined at different times and many cherubs demanded more frequent meals. The platforms? They were commonly used as training and dueling grounds when the mess halls were not suitable. The nurseries? The last thing Gabriel wanted was an encounter with a nurse.

His feet touched the floor lightly. He began walking slowly with no destination in mind when the site of his interrogation flashed through his mind. Quickening his pace, Gabriel made for the deserted Old Colony.

He entered the area cautiously, drinking in the ornate carvings in more detail than before. There were no definite pictures or symbols he could distinguish, but the designs curled around the tops of pillars and snaked up along their sides. The unknown metals gleamed curiously as Gabriel walked past them staring in unmasked awe. As he entered deeper into the Old Colony, the designs became more pictorial and the pillars started connecting to form constructions. He passed the structure where he and Iblis were interrogated and plunged deeper.

He wanted to lose himself in Heaven's forgotten beauty and delicate strength, its decorative simplicity and soft _warmth_. Could stone and metal _be_ this warm? He didn't know and he didn't care. What did the how and why matter if the time to enjoy the moment was so short and unpredictable?

The designs had disappeared and were replaced by images depicting the angels of the Old Colony. Gabriel stared in fascinations. He had only seen portrayals of angels in human foundations and those were most often grossly inaccurate with the species' overactive imagination making unnecessary embellishments. His eyes moved across pictures of angels dueling, steering early ships, and hatching eggs. Each structure he wandered into showed various images of angelic daily life.

Gabriel vaguely noted the path of the structures he walked through wound in a steady spiral leading him towards the center. The became larger and more grandiose as he progressed until one large building loomed ahead of him. Like the others, pillars flanked its sides and supported the heavy stone ceiling. The entire structure seemed to be carved from one piece of stone as each section blended into the next. Light reflected off the smooth surfaces despite the darkness and danced on the walls, the floor, and the pillars.

Gabriel entered the building apprehensively, feeling as though he trod on sacred ground. Light and shadows fluttered under his feet as he stepped towards the wall behind the pillars and he chose to ignore the multiple doors leading inside, already feeling as though he intruded a place he was not worthy of being. One hand on the stone, he walked around the structure, noting the shape was that of a circle and the wall a gigantic mural. His eyes glanced off looming portraits of majestic angels and their various battle stances. He stopped at the face of one familiar angel in shock.

Strong silver eyes burned into him and beside the portrait the same angel stood with all six wings unfurled as he held before him a staff with a praying angel embellishing its tip. His pale blond hair was bound in a loose ponytail and several strands fell over his shoulders and chest.

Gabriel whipped his head back to the other angels he had passed before backtracking, staring into each angel's face intently. As he approached each angel he felt an echo of his presence. His pace quickened and soon he was trotting beside the mural. Gabriel would have sworn the angels were there; thy were watching him as he studied their faces and when their eyes began following him he realized they were _alive_.

Before him were the gods. Their souls peered at him from the smooth stone that could become warm and liquid and radiate aura.

_"Our mother's bone."_

The stone—no, the Old Colony—was alive and teeming. The angels' planet, the ultimate mother, had not died. She continued to live through the efforts of her children and watched in anguish as they tore each other apart and their blood soaked her bones. The mother would not rest until her Heavenly children found peace and was thus doomed to live forever.

Gabriel tore his hand, which had remained on the wall, away from the mural and sprinted toward the nearest building, passing another two portraits, which emanated similar auras.

Once in a separate structure, Gabriel's wings thrust him upward and guided him towards the edge of the Old Colony. He spotted the building where he and Iblis faced interrogation and glided inside. The two crude seats remained as Iblis had formed them and Gabriel coasted to a halt, dropping down before them.

He placed shaky hands on the smooth stone and unsurely asked them to allow him control. As he gently pushed down, the stone yielded to his touch and sank back to the floor with hardly a ripple.

As he stood his mind wandered back to the last two portraits he had passed at the mural of the gods. The two had strikingly similar features. Probably a sire and cherub. Even their auras had been similar.

His and Iblis's auras were similar.

_"You were very attached to your commander."_

_"He was a powerful angel. I admired him greatly."_

_"Is that all?"_

Gabriel turned and walked out of the building. His wings pushed him into the air and carried him out of the Old Colony.

Angels flocked passed Gabriel to their various destinations as he glided without aim or purpose. His mind remained blank as his body mechanically prepared for the return journey. The passengers would only include himself, the messenger whose pod had been stolen by Iblis, and a handful of cherubs to replenish the fleet's ever dwindling population.

Iblis had tried to decrease the mortality rate by altering the dueling regulations.

Gabriel paused, his hand going still from striking in the attack sequence he had been practicing.

If Iblis was truly his sire, it would explain why their auras were similar and the treatment he had received from the high commander. Though he had never exclusively claimed to, Iblis had held certain human values in high regard.

Such as family.

And emotions.

He still had a twelfth of a sun remaining before the ship departed for the blue planet fleet. Abandoning any mere attempts to train, Gabriel made his way to the nurseries. Once in the vicinity he flew towards Orchard C and quickly scanned the orchard for auras as he passed rows upon rows of meliads, finally landing in front of 36.

"Where is he?" he asked. "I need access to the breeding records and he is the only nurse I know to be reliable."

A slight rustle.

"Of course; I don't understand you. I should have listened closer as a cherub." Gabriel approached the meliad hesitantly. "You keep secrets because most angels can't understand you, but may I ask a favor of you?"

36 parted her branches and beckoned him towards her trunk. Gabriel glanced around briefly before stepping into her shade. Her branches fell thick behind him like curtains, shielding his actions and words against any angels and surrounding meliads.

"You probably already know why I seek Rayyu," he said softly. "Why else would I want to access the breeding record?

"I think Iblis is my sire, but I am not absolutely certain. That is why I need to check. Our auras are similar enough and now that I have realized that, I am beginning to see the resemblances in our physical appearances as well. Green is not a very common eye color after all.

"But what if he is my sire? As an angel that means nothing more than the fact that I may possess some of his strengths and weaknesses and as a shaytan, I will never see him again." Gabriel stopped at the feeling of soft delicate leaves trailing over his cheeks.

"It would… only hurt more if I know he is my sire, wouldn't it?" He raised a hand to touch the vine-like branches and smiled. "Perhaps it is better if I do not know. Not yet, at least. Maybe in another thousand years, when Heaven has changed."

Another caress, this one through his hair. Gabriel leaned into the meliad's soothing touches as she comforted him with steady, gentle strokes. He shifted slightly when she pulled his hair up into the ponytail he always wore it in as a cherub.

"You realize I will be forced to take it out once I leave," he said, feeling the flexible branch being used as a ribbon to hold his hair in place.

36 merely tightened the ponytail. He smiled.

"Do not tell Rayyu what I confessed?"

She passed her leaves lightly over his eyes.

"I am grateful. Until I next return to Heaven."

Gabriel held up a hand that 36 quickly took. Her vine uncoiled from his slender fingers as he stepped out from the shelter of her branches. He turned his head at the presence of another, making instant eye contact with Rayyu.

"There is not much time left."

"I know."

They continued to stare, each waiting for the other to blink first.

"You seek something?"

A moment's hesitation.

"No. I have to go." He began walking down the row. "Will you… see the ship off?"

"I have to check the meliads."

"I understand."

"They seemed healthy enough last time…."

"You do not have to."

"None of them are due for another moon at least. It really is pointless to check their daily progress."

"As you wish." He took off without turning around, but the sound of another pair of beating wings behind him made his chest squeeze just a little. Yes, only a little.

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Allusions and Explanations:  
Feeding Five Times: Five small meals is the healthiest eating habit according to my health teachers.

A meliad's branches can be hard and sturdy, and can also be flexible; it depends on how old the branch is. When the tips of branches begin growing, they can be picked like hair, but once they are in place long enough, they become more like a nail, then finger, and eventually a limb. Thus the branch holding Gabriel's hair is one of the earlier tips.

_Posted: 23 July 2007  
Next Post: 13 August 2007  
_


	10. The Protector

If all the characters were mine, I would still be posting stories on this site because I would be in better touch with my fans... and because I'm just twisted like that. I can only claim ownership of all the characters except for the obvious.

It is unclear as to why or how angels are able to change wing colors, hide their wings, or even reopen old wounds on the delicate limbs. However, most theorists have noted that the angels' wings, or possibly their entire bodies, respond and react to their owners' emotional state. Some changes are so subtle that they are virtually undetectable and still others may be interpreted as responses to various stimuli. This physical change however, seems to coincide with only strong emotions; that is, extreme fear, bitterness, or happiness. As most angels make a conscious effort to emotionally deaden themselves, the majority have pure white wings. Those that have any other color, mostly consisting of various shades of gray, though there have been some rare cases of brown, are usually avoided or dubbed as weak. It is widely believed however, that when an angel comes to terms with his emotions and accepts them, his wings revert back to their original white.

Fallen  
Chapter 10  
The Protector  
By Illusion

"Gabriel was summoned?"

Michael nodded.

"And you tell me this fifty years after it happens?"

"Well," he had the decency to look sheepish, "technically it has only been forty-six years."

Israfel furrowed his brow. "Michael… when was the last summoned angel pardoned?"

"I do not know," he admitted, but at Israfel's worried reaction, he added, "I am sure it was in the past few centuries."

"Under what charges was he summoned?"

"I do not know."

Israfel dropped his eyes and the crease in his brow deepened.

Michael sighed and placed a hand under the other angel's chin and raised his face. "This is why I waited almost fifty years to tell you. I did not wish to see you so distressed."

"Gabriel protected me since I was a cherub," Israfel said, watching Michael's gaze evenly. "He hatched me. I have a right to know when he is in danger and you have no right to keep the information from me.

"Now that neither of you is a cherub, it does not matter whether one knows about the other's condition or whereabouts," Michael bit back icily.

Israfel's gaze hardened into a glare. "Remove your hand."

"Israfel…."

"Remove thy hand."

He immediate released the other angel's chin at the formal speech.

"It would be wise for you to return to the commanders' barracks," he said, adjusting the collar of his robes. "Those who still show connections to missionaries are not thought highly of."

"Neither are those who take orders from missionaries."

"Who is ordering whom?"

"At this point, I do not know," Michael said. "But I swore to Gabriel that I would stay by your side and from there, I intend to protect you, just as you intend to protect him."

Israfel refused to blink. When had Michael's face gotten so close? "Your vow interfered with mine."

"It is your vow against mine, and I choose to uphold mine at the expense of yours." He withdrew. "I wish you well on your next mission."

Israfel only glared as Michael turned and exited the missionary barracks.

* * *

He was one of the many that gathered at the viewing platform, anticipating the ship from Heaven. He also noticed that the ships had clumped closer together to better view the main ship's docking platform. 

The fleet had been without a high commander for almost 200 years and angels of all levels were eager to see who would emerge from the ship. Missionaries and several commanders speculated and murmured to each other until the entire platform was filled with a low hum.

Israfel remained staring at the main ship. He had not advanced to a commander position like Michael and thus did not see the auburn-haired angel as often as before. While he remained assigned to the area humans called Arabia, Michael had taken control over the newly dubbed México. As a low-level commander his area was relatively small, but the recent moving of Europeans to the New World was sparking a clash between the natives an invaders, resulting in a growth of believers. His success had placed the new commander in charge of the incoming cherubs.

The buzz that filled the platform suddenly died out as the angels noticed a small ship making its way towards the fleet. It was cocked to one side at a weird angle and approached rapidly from below. As it neared, it adjusted itself so that its bottom faced the same as the fleet's and it began to rise instead, aiming for the main ship. Every angel's eyes were trained on the ship as one of its rear wings aligned with the fleet's main ship and a thick metal cylinder extended from the bottom of the larger ship to fully enclose the top opening of the passenger ship. Once secure, a hole opened within the inner platform of the main ship. The entire fleet held its breath, anticipating who would rise from the tube and eager to learn of the fleet's leadership status.

The first angel to emerge did so swiftly, quickly followed by another and another. Their blond hair flowed behind them as they rose and fell, landing on the smooth floor of the platform lightly and folding their wings. In rapid sequences of three to five angels at a time, the new and returning missionaries boarded the main ship until a small flock of about forty angels stood facing the awaiting commanders. The missionaries and commanders remained staring at the wide gaping hole, awaiting the most powerful angel in the fleet. No more angels appeared.

* * *

Michael continued to stare at the round void in the floor even as it began shrinking. His eyes flickered to Gabriel's and realized with a sinking feeling that the head commander was not returning. The other angel's bright green eyes were empty as usual, but for the brief moment in which he and Michael made eye contact, everything important passed between them. Israfel was well, Iblis was gone, and they would meet soon. 

Gabriel made his way to his previous commander's side silently as did Pilate, leaving the passenger ship's pilots and cherubs standing in a loose clump, facing the commanders. Michael stepped forward with several other commanders and gathered about ten cherubs around him before turning and leading them to a connection duct to another ship. Once they had gathered on the main platform of the ship, he turned to address them and explain the basic regulations and punishments. Several cherubs looked appalled at the idea of avoiding unnecessary punishments while others simply held back sneers. As he spoke, his eyes narrowed and he observed that several of the newcomers did not possess the pure white wings characteristic of their race. Though it was very slight, he could detect various patterns in light gray on the feathers and his wariness increased. _What is happening in Heaven?_

As the cherubs departed to seek their own masters, he noticed one whose aura was considerably older and wings were a visible shade of gray. Marching up to the cherub, he waited until the other angel faced him. "Why is a fully adult angel among these cherubs?"

The angel's already narrow eyes became suspicious purple slits as he regarded the commander. "Provisions in Heaven are running low," he said. "Too many angels. Too little food. Too little space."

"You are a guardian."

"I was a guardian."

"Give up your status as guardian for the lowest missionary rank?" The other angel seemed power hungry and unlikely to willingly choose a lower position. His aura was the darkest Michael could recall and his behavior indicated he could be no older than Israfel.

He scowled slightly at the reminder of his drop in rank, but raised his head in slight defiance. "It seems it will be easier to advance here than in Heaven. Are missionaries as weak as your system of government?"

Michael's apprehension evolved into slight anger as he felt his chest get hot. "Weakness does not exist within this fleet," he bit out, glaring at the contaminated angel. "And if it does, it has always been crushed successfully."

"It seems it has been nurtured instead. Your retaliation says as much. I am still alive."

"There are no meliads here. A living angel, no matter how disobedient, is a necessity." Michael glared at the other angel. This angel was dangerous and he dared not lose sight of him. "As of today, you are my apprentice. Name."

"Raphael."

* * *

Lafayel trailed behind Michael silently as the commander led the way to the missionary barracks. "Each ship is an individual vessel," he explained as they walked along the near-empty corridors. "As you have probably noticed, they are all connected by flexible tubes with currents to allow angels to fly from one ship to the other. However, to conserve space and energy, the actual ships do not blow currents through ordinary corridors such as this one. They are only present in the tubes and during several hours a sun for the platforms."

"Hours?"

"Human terminology. It is the equivalent of one twenty-fourth of a blue planet sun."

Lafayel remained silent. Angels were not supposed to adopt human terms. Angels were superior. It should be the humans who obeyed and were influenced.

"Despite having a commander as your master, you will still have to go through the various missionary ranks before becoming a commander," Michael continued, oblivious to Lafayel's thoughts. "Of course, if you skip a rank you will not be penalized. In fact, you may even gain some degree of respect. It will just be highly unusual."

He stopped suddenly before whirling around to face his silent charge. "Last I heard guardians were forbidden to leave Heaven."

Lafayel merely continued to stare unseeingly ahead.

"Am I correct in assuming this decree is still in place?"

Still no answer.

"Raphael, I will not report you if your answer is satisfactory."

Lafayel hesitated briefly. "And if it is not?"

"Whether you are here or not does not concern me personally," Michael said. "The fleet is in dire need of more angels and as you were able to hold a position as a guardian, you must be strong enough to meet the survival requirements here." He looked over his charge, taking in the thin, braided hair, scrawny frame, and darkened wings. "However, you had no need to leave Heaven unless there is something you seek here or something you flee from there."

The other angel visibly flinched, though the cause remained a mystery to Michael. "I seek a particular angel," he said, choosing his words carefully. "He was the only cherub that could present a challenge for me."

"And yet he did not kill you in these challenges?" One auburn eyebrow rose delicately. Though the fleet had "softened" every angel, none forgot his harsh upbringing as a Heavenly cherub.

"The same nurse raised us," the other angel quickly said. "He forbid us to kill each other and instead focus our attentions on the other cherubs."

Michael regarded the former guardian, turning his story over inside his head several times. There were still some huge gaps that needed to be filled in and the information given to him hardly outweighed the punishment of being caught. Despite all this, the darkened wings and subtle desperate and haunted look in the deep purple irises compelled him to keep an eye on his new apprentice not only for the safety of the others, but also for his own.

He raised his hand and the other flinched again.

"Raphael."

The apprentice met Michael's stern gaze with his own challenging stare. His jaw tensed as he steeled himself against a blow. His eyes were narrower and darker, and the glare was slightly fiercer, but the stance, the expression, and the determined stubbornness all seemed rather familiar.

His hand fell away and wound around his fingers was a long white ribbon. He smiled ever so slightly as Lafayel ran his fingers through the blond tresses in curiosity, helping the braid unwind.

"In the fleet, we keep our hair unbound," Michael explained. "For some reason, humans in most regions seem to believe deities are not affected by typical things such as hair getting blown into our eyes." He was opening smiling now. "An angel with his hair bound is rather conspicuous; a braid is even more so. Though I must say," he paused, taking in Lafayel's appearance with several locks falling over his shoulders, "I have never seen an angel with wavy hair."

Lafayel's astonished expression dissipated, replaced by a scowl as he ground out, "And this is forbidden?" He looked pointedly at Michael's unusual hair color.

At this, the auburn-haired angel chuckled, his good mood only increasing when he saw his apprentice's scandalized reaction. "Not at all," he said, resisting the urge to tousle the other angel's hair, as he usually did with Israfel. Leaning in close, he whispered, "I like it. There is a certain lack of variety here."

And with that, he left his charge at the entrance of the missionary barracks and strode purposefully towards his own barracks. The grin was gone from his face, but his heart felt lighter than it had in decades.

XXXXXXXXXXXX  
Ew, gross. While I was re-reading the last half of this chapter it hit me. Really, really hard. I'm sorry that the quality of writing has gone done in this chapter; I really don't know why. I admit I was worried about the word count, but that wasn't entirely it. Ugh, I really don't like this section of the story because it's going to get rather nasty soon and that's all I can think about even during this relatively happy part.

Also, I'm usually not a stickler for reviews, but come on. One review, people? I got more hits for the last chapter than I did for chapter 7 and yet I got less reviews? I love writing for the sake of writing, so I'm not going to stop the story or delay my posts because of this, but it did affect my enthusiasm a bit. Of course, there could be a variety of factors such as lack of Internet access or such, but if you have the time to review, it would be much appreciated. It also gives me greater motivation and thus, greater spurts of inspiration. In fact, this story would never have revived if I hadn't received a review a year after I stopped working on it (I'm terribly sorry that I don't remember who re-motivated me).

Lots of love to RumorUnderOath!

Allusions and Explanations:  
The odd way the passenger ship arrives is due to the nature of space. Remember, there is no gravity and therefore no set up, down, etc. If you're really curious about this, read Ender's Game, which does a _beautiful_ job at explaining and drilling this idea into your head.

Contaminated angel: It means his aura, soul, whatever you want to call it, has been corrupted. By what, we don't know yet.

Hour: I'm not sure if this was being used at the time (right now, I'd say it's around the 1600s or so) but I don't really feel like looking up how certain cultures divided time.

Raphael: The archangel of healing in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. He is known as Raphael by Catholics and Orthodox and is called Israfel in Islam. There are several other names by which he is mentioned, but I don't know all of them. In this story, this is the name Lafayel goes by while in the fleet because in Japanese, there is no "la" or "ra" sound; it's more like a combination. After I remembered this, I thought that an alternative translation for Lafayel's name could be "Raphael", which made sense to me because Gabriel and Israfel are archangels as well, even if Israfel and Raphael are actually the same.

Wavy hair: Just to clarify, Lafayel does not have naturally wavy hair; it's as straight as all the others.

_Posted: 13 August 2007_  
_Next Post: 3 September 2007_


	11. Pain

I feel terrible for saying this, but there will be no chapter today. After the last post, I completely focused on studying (I know, scary right?) so instead of writing, I was doing practice SATs. Once that was over, it was summer homework time, then school started a few days later. So what about Labor Day weekend? Well, I went to Cape Cod with family friends and got so sunburned that the skin on my face, neck, and arms are bright, firetruck red. And it's very_ very_ painful. Suffice to say, all of this combined was _not_ good for my progress with this story. Also, since I am a senior this year, I will be forcing myself to study like crazy since I really need to pull my grades and GPA up. I don't know when I'll be able to next update, but as soon as college admissions stuff is over with, I'll be back to the once-every-three-weeks posting schedule. If things _really_ calm down, I might even up it to once every _two _weeks, so I ask all of you wonderful readers to please be patient with me for just a little longer and I will be back with a full chapter as soon as possible.

Love you all,  
♦Illusion♦

_Posted: 3 Sept. 2007  
Next Post: Who knows?  
_


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